The Beginning Tales
by ShrinuiWolf
Summary: Zharaji was a mercenary Cathar, Kaylee was a human Mandalorian. They were meant to be enemies, and yet they became best friends. When trouble stirs its ugly head, and forces the two to join sides and battle their enemies, in order to find an old friend, what will come of it at the end? Swearing and some gore involved
1. Chapter One: Darth Zrenuith

**(Jointly-written, so many thanks to a friend!)**

 **Author's Note: While my knowledge in the Star Wars universe is somewhat limited, I have researched and asked questions in regards to the various topics discussed in these chapters. With that said, if you notice anything, do let me know. Feedback is always appreciated.**

 **Updates will be regular up until Chapter 6, after that, it may slow down.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter One**

Korriban. A planet controlled purely by Sith, the orange, dusty sands unmoving in the heat of the sun. The Sith Academy stands tall, overshadowing the many stairs leading up to the entrance.

Acolytes and Apprentices train, using the power of Force to best their opponents, their attention hindered by the sound of a shuttle arriving, off-world visitors not often welcomed, nor invited without good reason. At touch-down, the vents of the shuttle blow the debris underneath in all directions, the door sliding open to reveal a heavily armoured female, covered in beskar from head-to-toe, coloured in black and red and decorated with various gadgets and trinkets. She turns her head over her shoulder, nodding to one of the pilots, before she strides down the ramp, her feet leaving footprints in the blood-red sand below.

"Stop staring! Get back to training, useless Akk Dogs!" a voice rings out from the fighting pits, and the woman turns her head to look towards the area. A gathering of Sith seemingly glaring at her from a distance, they fumble around each other at the demands of the Lord. Returning to their battles.

She grins from within her helmet, her emerald eyes roaming over the unfamiliar planet, before a second pair of footsteps reach her position. Turning her gaze to the armoured guard, she perks up a brow as he extends his hand, his other pointing to the blasters located at her hip.

"Rules are rules, outsider" he states, and she narrows her eyes in warning, before unhitching her weapons and handing them over. The guard grunts, taking the weapons away into a safe-storage cargo, speaking to her over his shoulder.

"They will be returned on your leave".  
"Good. Th'better, f'your sake". She watches as the guard returns to her side, an irritated expression adorning his features from behind his visor. She smirks at him, raising her chin defiantly. Confident in her actions.

He opens his mouth to speak, interrupted by an unexpected, third voice, hoarse in sound.

"Leave her. She is no concern of yours".  
"Y-yes, my Lord. As you say". The guard stutters and stumbles over his words, bowing pathetically low to the new, imposing figure. The woman folds her arms over her chest, a chuckle escaping as she mock-waves towards the guard as he takes his leave. Once sure he's out of sight, she turns to the owner of the third voice.

She grimaces under her helmet, the sight which meets her eyes being ghastly to witness. Hooded, with his face darkened under the covering, his expression is almost full of arrogance and superiority. Wrinkles surround the heavy scars littering his face, ranging from those of previous saber burns, to that of a knife's blade. His eyes gaze at her coldly, only one having visibility, a colour as cold as his demeanour; icy-blue. The other remains completely white and unseeing, yet still makes her feel as if he's looking straight through her, and into her very soul.

"You must be the Mandalorian I've had the...displeasure... to have contact with". He speaks to her as if she's nothing. Not even worth the bloodied dust under his boots. She uncrosses her arms, allowing them to fall to her side. Offering a single nod, her tone business-like.

"That I am. I 'ave a request of y', and I'll offer m'services t'ya in return".  
"I know why you are here, Mandalorian. I don't need you to repeat yourself... What could you possibly offer me, a Sith of high standards, hm?"  
"I can figh'. Train y'... acoleets". She recieves a snort in reply, and he waves his hand dismissively.  
"I have Siths to train those insufferable fools. I don't need, or want some outcast to do that". The woman blinks, opening her mouth to retort, snapping it shut as the Lord continues to speak.

"No... I have a better idea. You will accompany me to Dromund Kaas. You will remain quiet the whole time, and do as I say".  
"N'if I don't?"  
"Then your pretty little head will be on display for all to see", he warns, grinning at her. She cannot help but release a sigh, turning her head away from the discoloured teeth he reveals to her.  
"What do I call y'then, Sith-y?"  
"Lord. Master. You speak to me as your superior, because I **am** superior to you". She snorts at his words, shaking her head.  
"I dun' think so. Y'not mi'master, or th'boss of me".  
"You will learn your place, Mandalorian". A spark of light catches her eye, and she turns to see the Lord's weapon ignited and raised towards her. She stares, amazed by the unusual sight put before her, too distracted to notice it coming closer towards her, leaving a burnt slice in her chest piece, the energy absorbers installed taking most of the damage. She blinks and gasps in surprise at the contact, a hand reaching to her hip for her blaster to retaliate, fumbling around in confusion when she fails to find it, only afterwards remembering that she was disarmed upon arrival.

"Look, I d'no what y'problem is. But do tha' again? And i'll take y'...shiney-thing away from y' and stick it where tha' sun dun' shine", she grunts, fingering the burn in her armour, blinking as she hears the Sith begin to chuckle darkly.

"You are as clueless and untrained as newly born. You had better learn, and learn quickly, or the only use you will be to me, is as an example to those who don't".

The female lifts her hands to her helmet, twisting and pulling at the armour piece, removing it from her head and tucking it under her right arm. Her eyes remain locked on the Sith as her red-hair tumbles down past her shoulders, her free hand combing through any tangled strands, "Then y'can start 'teaching' me by firs' telling me wha' that is".

She points to what's left of the weapon he equips, a single, silver tube with a wide circular hole at the bottom and the Sith follows her motion. He raises a greyed brow, returning his gaze to stare at her.

"That, you stupid child, is a saber".  
"An' that is?" He raises a brow once more at her question, simply striding forwards, turning and pushing her towards the shuttle which she came from. The Mandalorian releases a growl of protest at being pushed, lengthening her steps to instead walk ahead, the door to the shuttle sliding upwards, granting the two access.

 **[THREE HOURS LATER...]**

"So, what's y'name? N' I don't mean this 'Lord' or 'Master' stuff. I dun' do that".  
"Tough".  
" C'mon... I'll even tell y'mine! T'is Kaylee Oridas".  
"No".  
"...Please?" The Sith releases a gruff sigh, lifting a hand to pinch at the bridge of his deformed nose, his eyes narrowed in impatience.  
"Zreniuth. Now **quiet** "  
"Righ', righ'... Zreniuth... Zren..." Kaylee mutters the name under her breath a few times, releasing a gasp as she opens her mouth to speak, only a lone squeak coming from her as Zreniuth snaps his cold glare towards her once more.  
"Shuttin' up..." she sighs, blinking as the shuttle begins to rattle, turning her gaze to the pilot-seat and through the window, the planet of Dromund Kaas quickly coming closer.

"Arriving at the designated point in approximately two minutes!"  
"Calibrating the shuttle's atmospheric shields! Ready in twenty seconds!"  
"Brace for landing!"

Leaping to gaze out of the sideview windows, Kaylee trips over Zreniuth's foot, banging against the shuttle's walls, uncaring as she observes the landing. Grunting, Lord Zreniuth unbuckles his seatbelt, standing up and brushing himself down. The pilots share a brief celebratory moment, clapping their hands together, before releasing the lock for the shuttle-exit, the door sliding up to reveal the rainy-weather of Dromund Kaas spaceport. As they make their way up to Kaas City, Kaylee trails behind, her eyes curiously peering around.

Noticing her current companion rushing ahead, she skip-runs to his side, staring at his face. He scowls down at her, and she grins, opening her mouth to speak. The Lord releasing a groan as she does.

"So, what are we 'ere for?"  
"I have a meeting with a 'pet' " Kaylee blinks, tilting her head in bemusement. She frowns, running his words through her mind, before humming in thought.  
"Y'ave a pet?" Zreniuth grins and she has to suppress the familiar feeling of a shudder, focusing on listening to his reply.  
"Yes. A Cathar is running some... errands for me".  
"Oh... Where do I c'min?" she questions, turning her gaze back ahead as they climb the stairs to enter the market district.

"That, you will soon find out" he replies, eyeing Kaylee up and down as she responds with a nod of her head. Reaching the Cantina building, Zreniuth turns to face her and stopping without warning. Kaylee continues to walk forwards and bangs into his hard body, releasing an 'uff' of surprise, stepping backwards to give him a look of questioning.

"You will remain at the entrance. You will not enter until I return. You will listen, you will not interrupt me". Kaylee furrows her brows, opening her mouth to speak, however would stop herself as the Sith Lord raises a hand to silence her.

"You will know only what is required. Am I clear?"  
"Yes, Sith-y Lord", she grins, faltering as his good eye twitches, nodding simply as a follow-up.  
"Good. Let us enter". Zenriuth turns on his heels, entering the dimly lit corridor, his sweeping robe following him. Kaylee at his side. Turning the corner, they're greeted with cheap music and the sound of drinks, a neon blue light shining from a doorway. The Sith turns to nod at her, pointing at the wall, where she moves to stand. Waiting for his return.

 **[ONE HOUR LATER...]**

Kaylee sighs, resting her head back against the cold surface of the wall, throwing and catching a single credit chip in boredom. At the sound of approaching footsteps from within, she turn her head to peer hopefully at the entrance, releasing a sigh of relief as the familiar figure comes into vision.

"Finally. I though' I had b'in ditched!"  
"Tempting, alas no. You are to enter". Zrenuith nods at the red-head, smirking as she blinks.  
"An' do what?"

Pointing inside the Cantina, he motions to a Cathar leaning on the counter, a knife penetrating the surface top in front of her. Kaylee follows his point, watching the feline for a few moments, before turning her attention back towards the Lord, curious.

"Gain her trust. She has been...unwilling to co-operate. That needs to change. Perhaps a 'friend' will help soften her up". Kaylee nods slowly, hesitating before pushing herself from the wall, brushing herself down as she slips the given credit-chip into her utility belt.

"A'ight, watch n'learn Sith-y". She strides into the Cantina purposely, humming to herself happily. She orders herself a Tihaar from the bar-droid, waiting for the order. A snort from her right grants her the opportunity she needs, and she turns her attention to the Cathar.

" 'Ey. Everything a'ight?" She smiles warmly towards the Cathar as she gets her reply, subtly nudging the conversation into a semi-comfortable teasing session. Back at the entrance, Lord Zrenuith speaks into his ear-piece, his plan already underway.


	2. Chapter Two: Of Cathars and Darth's

**Chapter One - in Zharaji's PoV.**

* * *

 **Chapter Two: Of Cathars and Darths.  
**

The cantina in Dromund Kaas was unusually quiet, various patrons scattered around the building, too occupied in their drinking and drunken discussions to even bother being wary of who was around or watching. This suited Zharaji well, a lone Cathar standing at the bar, her ear-tips ever moving to the sounds of chortles and the clinking of glasses. Running her tongue over a single fang within her mouth, she rolls her shoulders, the simplicity of Durasteel protecting her from most, though not all, attacks.

The low rumble of a growl vibrates in her throat, her right hand clasping an old, worn knife. The hilt in poor condition, clearly over-used. The blade it has is equally as worn, Catharese engraved into the metal. The sound of a glass slamming roughly against the counter to her left catches her attention, her eyes snapping to her right, her verdant eyes focussing on the figure besides her.

Hooded, his face hidden from view, the individual would appear suspicious to most, a naturally shady character from first glance. A long, black robe falls from the nape of his hood, floating down to end a few inches above the grimey floor. Intricate details embroided in the very fabric, dark reddish in colour, a simple redwork patterning decorating the seams.

The Cathar turns her head to stare at the male's face, uncaring if he notices or not. The sight is nothing but unpleasant to the eyes, a single, icy-blue eye, the other completely white and clouded. His heavily wrinkled skin littered in scars and long-since healed saber burns, albeit crudely so. Zharaji forces down the shiver which creeps its way up the length of her spine, the male turning his cold gaze towards her, smirking devishly, a single aged brow rising.

Zharaji slenderly digs two fingers into a compartment on her utility belt, removing a small data-chip, placing it on the counter in front of her, a single claw used to slide it to her right. She watches as he inspects the chip, lifting it with a hand, raising it in the air in front of his face, chuckling quietly to himself.

"That is all I have found so farrr", she pauses between speaking, taking a moment to carefully plan her next words, "I should have ourrr tarrget within a matterr of months, if all goes accorrdingly".

He nods, watching the Cathar closely, "Good. See that you don't fuck up. You know what happens, if you do". His voice is rough to her ears, almost rasping as if speaking through an internal tube, Zharaji suppresses the need to recoil from him, the stench of his breath reaching her nostrils. A smell of alcohol and death. The stink of a Sith.

She clenches her fingers around the knife she holds, nodding her understanding, replying curtly, "I know what I'm doing, Zreniuth. I don't need you to tell me what to do". She scowls at him as she snaps his next words, brittles of spit flying from his mouth, landing on her facial fur. Her muddy-brown coating glinting in the blue lights above them.  
"Interesting, you were lost without me to force your claws". Zharaji wipes the saliva from her face, her cat-like pupils turning into predatory slits, her eyes narrowing. She raises the knife in her hand, a low hiss coming from her as she bares her pointed canines, readying to strike her 'prey'. He grins at her, revealing his decayed, yellow teeth. Upon lifting a finger into the air in the distance separating them, he waddles it mockingly, his tone testing.

"Ah, ah, ah. Remember what you're risking, Cat. You strike me, I reveal your little **'secret'** ".  
Frustrated, the feline shoots her hand into the air, the knife pointing downwards. Feeling satisfaction as the Sith's eyes widen in surprise, she brings the blade down into the surface of the bar, weapon penetrating through metal with a resounding 'slam'. Several gasps of shock come from the patrons in the background, and she turns her glare to the observers. Grunting as they clear their throats simultaneously, returning to their conversations.

"Fine. Here is the inforrmation. Give me my payment".  
"Good, cat. It's about time you learned your place", she chuckles darkly, a hand reaching into his inner-robe pockets, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards as he notices Zharaji tensing and bracing for punishment. Removing a slender, well-built datapad, he slots the chip inside, reviewing the information.  
"You get your payment, when I am satisfied", he states simply, his good eye scanning the contents greedily, Zharaji peeking over his shoulder, double-checking everything she's gathered.

"Therre is everrything you asked forrr. Imperrial names, locations last seen... Family memberrs known. All of it. Theirr occupations arre also listed". Zreniuth nods as he listens, sliding a finger over the screen, reading the following slide, the display shifting to reveal physical descriptions of each person, along with known aliases. Nodding again, satisfied, the hooded male turns his attention to her once more.

"You have done well, Cat. Very well...However, there are a few details missing.." He sneers as a furry brow is raised, Zharaji staring towards him in questioning.  
"Which arre?"  
"Weapons. Suppliers. The nitty-gritty details you have had the indecency to forget to gather".

The Cathar responds with a nod, reaching over to input various codes into the datapad, finishing with sliding a single claw, the display flickering to reveal an encrypted message. Further codes are entered, much to the displeasure of the Sith Lord, and he releases an impatient sigh. As she moves away, the encrypted code changes to reveal various cargo-suppliers, the payments recieved, and the weapons and items carried. Another swipe of the screen, and the information swaps to show numbers and popularity, and those who order the most 'exotic' of weaponry.

Pleased, Zreniuth lifts a hand and pats Zharaji on the head, praising her. The Cathar growls in irritation, her own hand swatting at his arm away from her, threading her claws into her hair and scrubbing them into her scalp, as if to remove every inch of contact. Barking out an almighty laugh, he returns his datapad into his inner-robe.

"You **have** done well, my pet. Very well, here is your payment", he snickers. Digging a hand into his utility belt, he pulls out a similar data-chip to the one previously, flicking it lazily towards Zharaji, who hungrily snatches it from the air, her palm closing around it tightly.

"Continue to do this well, and you shall have your revenge soon enough".  
"I've done this well frrom the beginning, you alrready know this. Give me morre than **this** ". Zreniuth stares at Zharaji, displeased. His eyes flashing in anger, he sweeps a hand towards her, slapping her roughly, his sharp nails leaving fresh markings in her speckled fur. The Cathar releases a hiss of surprise, banging into the counter with the force, narrowing her eyes.

"I have been more than generous to you, Cat. Next time you demand further, I will turn you into a tapestry to be hung in my quarters. Is that understood?" he glowers at the feline, humming once as she nods.  
"Good", pushing himself away from the bar, turning to storm to the exit. Zharaji flicks her ears at the sound of a poor Twi'lek female being lifted and thrown by the Force, sliding over a table of drinks and crashing into a crumpled heap on the floor. Zenriuth disappearing up the stairs and out of the doorway.

"Sha chast ra sana ra srd..." she sighs, muttering to herself, pinching at her face with a thumb and fore-claw, her gaze landing on the knife penetrating the surface of the bar. She glares into her reflection, cursing in Catharese, turning her gaze away, disgusted.

Baring her fangs at the empty air in front of her, a sound from the left forces her hand to snatch up the knife from the counter, her attention turning to the newcomer, equipping the knife in a reverse grip.  
A young female stands tall in Beskar armour, red hair falling from her head and down past her shoulders, flowing in an angelic manner. Zharaji watches as the girl orders the Mandalorian drink of Tihaar, and she snorts to herself, averting her gaze in hatred.

" 'Ey. Everything a'ight?" the woman questions, and the Cathar almost blinks in surprise as she turns her gaze back to the red-head, a furry brow slowly perking upwards as she notices her to be the 'victim'.  
"Yes. Everrrything is fine", her answer is greeted with a nod and a warm smile, before the Human exchanges credits for her order.  
"Ta'. Name's Kaylee by th'way". Bemused, Zharaji simply stares, uncertain on how to react. Clearing her throat, she lowers her chin, her reply slow and calculated.  
"Zharaji.."  
"Nice t'meet y' Zhar", she nods once again to the feline, grinning and revealing brilliant white teeth, "Interrrresting accent y'got there!" Taken further by surprise, Zharaji remains silent as she waves the bar-droid over, ordering a bottle of Keela, capping the top off with a claw without even so much of a flinch at the pressure.

She brings the bottle to her lips, placing mouth to neck, draining a good portion of the contents, releasing a stressed sigh. As she drinks, she listens to the Mandalorian's string of babbled nonsense, the evening slowly turning into dusk, the night ending with the two women grinning.

In the distance, Zenriuth watches, an evil glint in his ice-cold eye. He smirks to himself, chuckling maliciously, raising a hand to his earpeice and speaking into it.

"Khuduas. Get me everything on the Cathar species, and this... Cat's family. I believe this will be easier than expected".

* * *

 **Translation:** _Sha chast ra sana ra srd_ \- What have I got myself into?


	3. Chapter Three: The Trap

**Chapter Two, of the Beginning Tales. Zharaji's Point of View.  
**

* * *

 **Chapter Two: The Trap  
**

Two weeks since that fateful night when she met the Mandalorian female. Two weeks since her life took a weird, yet strangely acceptable turn. Now, Zharaji finds herself in a dimly lit room, the only illumination being a metallic lights lining the walls.

No decorations or fancy banners adorn the walls. Only a simple desk litters the floor, a lone figure sitting behind it, with his hands clasped on top of the surface. He smirks at the Cathar, widening slowly into a sickly, menacing grin. Confident, collected. The cogs in his mind ever-turning as he plots each and every future action he has to make and do.

"You summoned me?" Zharaji's voice echoes in the hollow room, her verdant eyes glowing ever so slightly in the lack of light, giving her only limited visibility. She runs her tongue over a fang within her mouth, her ears flattened slightly against the side of her head, and the muddy brown fur along the back of her neck stood on end in her uneasy disposition.

"Indeed I did, Cat. I have your next task". He chuckles darkly, entwining his fingers together as he observes his 'pet'. She raises a furry brow at him, her head ever so slightly tilting to the left as she readies to listen. Running a single, pointed claw along her chin in thought.

"What is it?"  
"You are to track and assassinate a Sith Lord of my council. She has fulfilled her... uses". Zrenuith sneers as he speaks on the topic, as if merely mentioning the target gives him great displeasure.

Zharaji blinks slowly, pausing in the act of scratching her chin, in mild surprise. She stares at him in disbelief, her ears popping forwards as she runs the task in her mind over and over, wondering if, for some reason, she had misheard his words. The Darth leans forwards in his chair, narrowing his eyes, the single cold blue one staring at the Cathar in irritation.

"I'm sorrry?"  
"Don't play stupid with me, Cat. You heard me, and you will do it."  
"...Verry well. What is my time limit?" The feline places both hands behind her back, clasping them together in a typical business-like manner.

Zrenuith taps his enlarged nails along the smooth surface of his desk, running complicated calculations through his head. The tracking time, the opportunistic kill. The aftermath. Coming to a decision, he nods firmly, flicking his gaze back towards the Cathar.  
"Three days. Any longer, I assume you've failed and the next time I set my eye on you, your life will be forfeit. Understood?"  
"Underrstood. It will be done", Zharaji nods in return, unclasping her hands and turning to leave. Hearing the Darth clear his throat behind her, she turns her head to peer over her shoulder, gazing at him questioningly.

"One more thing, my pet. You will be accompanied by that Mandalorian you seem keen to share your...fleas with."  
"Kaylee? Whateverr forr?"  
"Ah, first name basis now, are we? It seems the Cat does have a soft spot, after all".  
Scowling, Zharaji releases a huff of impatience, folding her arms over her chest as she twists her body fully to face the Sith once more.  
"You don't need a reason. You just do it. Now, be gone. Your presence grows more tiresome, as each second passes". He waves a hand dismissively, snorting. As always, spit flies from his mouth and lands around his form. The Cathar can only thank the stars that she chose an earlier moment to gain distance rather than later.

She nods her head slowly, turning back around to walk away, her footsteps clapping at the floor with each step. Grunting, she roughly tugs her holo-communicator out from her utility belt, pressing various buttons, resulting in the device responding to her touch with several, loud beeps. Pressing the earpiece into her ear, she speaks into the device, her voice low and commanding. Her fangs bared in the obvious struggle it takes for her to speak to the person at the other end.  
"I need a worrd with you. No, I cannot tell you now. I'll see in the usual spot. See you therrre".

* * *

The initial meeting went well, as did getting to the spaceport. However, the shuttle flight was anything but pleasant. She'd never seen such a hyperactive Human before, if that was even the word to use for Kaylee. Hyperactive just didn't seem to give her justice with the behaviour she was currently displaying.

"Sit down!"  
"C'mon spoil sport, lemme 'ave a go! M'a great pilot!"  
"You launched the weapons on a passing meteorrr."  
"...So?"

Zharaji groans into a palm, peeking through her claws at Kaylee, who's busy entertaining herself with the various lights and buttons on the main console of the shuttle. Shaking her head, Zharaji shifts to the left side window, gazing out at the stars swimming in the open space outside. Squinting her eyes near-shut, she releases a surprised yowl as the shuttle suddenly jeers right, digging her claws into the metal wall lining, growling as the grip fails her, and she slides to the opposite end of the room. Her ears twitching as a distant 'wheeee' comes from the piloting area.

"By Sharrr and Illya, Mandalorrian, will you **please** st-" Her words are cut off as the shuttle slams into a hard object, causing it to spiral out of control, various warning alarms sounding from the cargo storages, Stims and Weapon cartridges flying from their respective places.

Zharaji once more grips with her claws in the shuttle walls, pulling herself towards a seat, hastily strapping herself in. The fur along her arms and neck standing firmly on end.

 **"Wheeee!** " The energized Human swoops into the room, her arms over her head as if riding a Dewback bareback, a wide grin on her face. She straps herself in, releasing a contented sigh, taking a moment to peer out to the stars spinning and flying past them, as the designated pilot corrects their flying pattern.

* * *

The path from the shuttle to the dense atmosphere of Korriban is a shock to any unused to any hot planet, but for those with fur, it always takes that much longer to adjust to the burning sun. As her feet touch the ground, she sets off towards the Academy without waiting for her companion to follow suit, her assassination target being her only concern.

Her ears flick as she catches the sound of running from behind her, and she turns her head to look at the culprit, nodding once as she recognises the Mandalorian's armour. Walking side by side, their steps simultaneous as they stride ahead.

Crossing the wooden bridge, Zharaji tugs out her datapad, tapping in various instructions into the system, reading the display on the screen aloud, pointing at the directions she gives with a finger.

"Says herre that ourr tarrget is known to wanderr. Close to the varrious tombs, if not within. Ourr closest...Is the Tomb of Ajunta Pall. Which is just a shorrt distance away frrrom the Academy itself. We'll go therre firrst".  
"Y'sure we're allowed in there. Sithy's dun' seem keen on visitors n' all".  
"We arre now". She shrugs at Kaylee, inclining her head, uncaring. As they turn a corner, the steps of the Academy comes into view, "I hope yourr weapons arre well hidden, Mando".  
" 'Course. Whadd'ya take me for?" Kaylee grins as she notices Zharaji suppressing a smirk, turning her gaze to the Academy above. Flexing her fingers, she entwines them together before pushing her palms outwards, away from her body, resulting in several cracks coming from her knuckles.

The Tomb in sight, they turn for the entrance, pausing outside of the gaping hole inviting them inside. Zharaji raises a palm to the Human, signalling for her to wait as she crouches low and creeps inside. Wincing as her head begins to feel as if it was compressing and pulsing. The dark power of the runes taking effect almost immediately. She takes a few tentative steps further inwards, grasping at her head as the pressure on her mind increases. Hissing in annoyance, she retreats back outside, shaking her head at the questioning glance of Kaylee.

"It's no good. Therre is too much darrrkness in therre to even get half way"  
"Darkness? Can't y'see in the dark?"  
"Wrrrong kind of darrkness. Sith kind of darrk. It causes pain, insanity. Everrrything negative".  
"...Ah. How d'ya get rid o'that?"  
"You can't. Not how you'rrre thinking".

The two release a thoughtful sigh, making their way to the next tomb, and then the next, up until they reach the very last tomb at the opposite side of the planet. Each one having the same effect as the first. Zharaji grunts, grasping at her temples, pinching at the fur-line with a thumb and fore-claw stressfully.

" Y'alright, Feline?"  
"Fine. Just fine", the Cathar pushes onwards, trudging through the sand, gripping at her vibroknives. Kaylee follows her slowly, keeping a short distance behind. Turning her head left and right as she keeps track of their surroundings. A noise catches her attention and she hop-runs to Zharaji's side, clearing her throat, receiving a silent nod in return, Zharaji's ears twisting and flicking at each sound.

Narrowing her eyes, the feline glances around her, in the middle of the planet, seemingly no-where with no buildings and no caves or tombs around them, they are completely exposed. She stops, gripping the hilts of her weapons tightly, a low rumble escaping her vocals in the form of a warning growl.

"Wha' is i-"  
"Shh".  
"Well, tha's rude..."  
"Shush", Kaylee falls silent once more, turning her attention away from the snappish Cathar, watching as her partner continues to eye the area suspiciously. All they are greeted with is silence, the only sound to give them company being that of the gentle breeze brushing the sand below their feet.  
"I thought I hearrd something".  
"What?"  
"I don't know. You kept talking... Let's keep moving".

With a nod, they begin to continue their journey into the unknown territory. Occasionally taking a sip from their liquid canisters, and checking their maps. Kaylee sighs, shaking her head, her temper slowly beginning to rise in impatience.

"Aren't Cathar supposed t'be good at trackin' or something?"  
"We arre. Howeverr, it's easierr when we'rre as a team".  
"Then why don't y'get the others with y'?" Zharaji scowls at the question, sending a quick glare towards the Mandalorian. Replying curtly.  
"Therre arre no otherrrs".  
"Whadd'ya mean?" Kaylee peers at Zharaji, unsure of her meaning. It wasn't until she thought on the Cathar's history that she realised. "Oh".  
"Yes, 'oh'. Yourr bloody kind destrrroyed them", Zharaji spins around to face Kaylee, folding her arms over her chest, her eyes narrowed and her pupils formed into thin slivers of blackness. Kaylee blinks, opening her mouth to reply, before the sound of an ignited saber echoes in the air around them. Zharaji flips her vibroknives into a reverse hold, baring her fangs and releasing a threatening roar.

As they gaze around, Kaylee sneaks a whispered reply, her hands curled into fists. Beneath her helmet, her mouth is pulled back into an angered snarl and she positions her back against Zharaji's.

"Then we have something in common, Cat. My Clan too, were slaughtered", Kaylee speaks firmly, her rushed Galactic Common switching into that of a concentrated Mandalorian accent.

Before she could retort, a sly, feminine chuckle breaks the conversation, and out from the shadows steps a tall, slender figure. Cloaked in an exquisite covering of black and deep purple. Hooded, the woman lifts her free hand, tugging at the cover to reveal her face.

Opposite to Zrenuith, the female Sith was beautiful, despite the taint of the Dark Side. Her face rounded and framed by a short bob of blonde hair, neatly combed. Her bangs cut short just above her equally rounded brows. She grins wickedly, brandishing her saber, performing complicated movements with the weapon, stepping forwards.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the Cat and the Sidekick". The grin slowly retreats into a smirk, her eyes narrowed in concentration. Zharaji raises her vibroknives, readying for action, Kaylee preparing her once-hidden Sniper Rifle.

"Prreparre to perrish, Sith".  
"Oh, no... It is you, who should prepare to 'perish'".

With that, the female dashes forth in near-impossible speed, dark shadows following her blurred form. Zharaji twists out of the way, Kaylee ducking with the movement, and the two of them prepare their assault.


	4. Chapter Four: The Trap, Part 2

**Chapter Two: Kaylee's Point of View**

* * *

 **Chapter Two: The Trap, Part 2.  
**

 _"Then we have something in common, Cat. My Clan too, were slaughtered"_ _, Kaylee speaks firmly, her rushed Galactic Common switching into that of a concentrated Mandalorian accent._

Before she could retort, a sly, feminine chuckle breaks the conversation, and out from the shadows steps a tall, slender figure. Cloaked in an exquisite covering of black and deep purple. Hooded, the woman lifts her free hand, tugging at the cover to reveal her face.

Opposite to Zrenuith, the female Sith was beautiful, despite the taint of the Dark Side. Her face rounded and framed by a short bob of blonde hair, neatly combed. Her bangs cut short just above her equally rounded brows. She grins wickedly, brandishing her saber, performing complicated movements with the weapon, stepping forwards.

 _"Well, well, well. If it isn't the Cat and the Sidekick"_ _. The grin slowly retreats into a smirk, her eyes narrowed in concentration. Zharaji raises her vibroknives, readying for action, Kaylee preparing her once-hidden Sniper Rifle._

 _"Prreparre to perrish, Sith"_ _.  
_ _"Oh, no... It is you, who should prepare to 'perish'"_ _._

With that, the female dashes forth in near-impossible speed, dark shadows following her blurred form. Zharaji twists out of the way, Kaylee ducking with the movement, and the two of them prepare their assault.

* * *

Still angered by the Cat's remark, Kaylee forces her Rifle into lethality mode, staring through the scope of her weapon from her helmet's visor. Her hands shaking in irritation, she closes her eyes for a brief moment, calming herself, slowing her breathing into a meditative rhythm.

Once her hands ceased their trembling, she tightens her grip around the trigger and rail of her weapon, gritting her teeth as she tries to get a clear shot. Watching both Cathar and Sith sweep their weapons at each other.

"C'mon...Move, Feline" she mutters to herself, her footwork delicate as she carefully adjusts her position. In the distance, the Sith cackles as her saber manages to slice at the Cathar's armour, leaving it's mark. A single, vertical slicing burn, straight through the durasteel.

Kaylee releases a shot, not wasting time as she locks and loads her weapon, hoping for another opportunity. The Sniper's shot hits home, the Sith getting a single shot in the left shoulder. Displeased, the designated 'target' turns to glare at Kaylee, shaking her head as she begins to prowl towards the Mandalorian.

Zharaji pounces forwards, taking advantage of the distraction given, thrashing her weapons in a simple 'cross' attack, aiming for the Sith's turned back. However, as if by some miracle, she finds herself pushed back by the Force, thrown into the air and back onto the dusty floor below, releasing a winded puff of air.

Snickering, the Sith raises her free hand to brush at her blonde bob of hair, releasing a mocking sigh. She continues her slow journey towards Kaylee, ignoring the weapon pointed straight at the mid-section of her skull.

"And I thought I was supposed to be facing proper combatants... Oh well, disappointments are meant to happen". Her voice sickly sweet, the Sith gets closer and closer towards her 'prey', humming joyfully with each foot placed upon the ground.

Kaylee braces herself, her finger on the trigger. She firmly presses it inwards, allowing a second shot to be fired, straight towards the Sith's head. Again, through the power of the Force, the Sith Lord manages to weave her way out of the line of fire, disappearing momentarily from view, and reappearing behind Kaylee, whispering in her ear.

"Boo..." With that, she readies her saber to pierce through the Beskar, having little time to react to a roar coming from her left. The blonde female releases a quiet yelp of surprise as she's roughly tackled to the floor, Kaylee spinning around in that exact moment to fire at the Sith's abdomen.

The shot burns through the light armour and into the flesh beneath, the smell of burnt skin reaching the enhanced senses of the Cathar. Zharaji grins, pressing a vibroknife against the throat of the Sith, narrowing her predatory eyes.

Behind her, Kaylee approaches, aiming the barrel straight at the skull of the female once more. In another strike of poor luck for the pair, the Sith raises her right knee, her free hand moving to grip at the wrist of the feline, and she rolls swiftly away from the Mandalorian, the third shot fired missing by mere inches, scraping her arm, the Cathar being thrown from her weight.

"That's more like it... A bit of danger!" The Sith flourishes her weapon, showing off, before moving to strike at the Cathar once more, her attack parried by a single, struggling knife. The second weapon slashing towards the already burned abdomen, causing her the jump backwards. Kaylee, her weapon raised, would twist and throw her stock into the back of the woman's head, dazing her.

"Got'cha!", triumphantly, Kaylee nods towards Zharaji, gaining distance once more. Repeating her earlier actions, she locks and loads the Sniper, gazing through the scope. Watching as the feline begins to punch her vibroknives repeatedly into the body of the Sith, before spinning around and slicing at the neck.

The bloodied Lord arches her back in reverse to avoid the final neck-attack, throwing her weapon towards Kaylee, allowing the saber to slash at the back of the Mandalorian's legs, before calling it back with the Force, similar to that of a boomerang. Zharaji throws a kick into the Sith's shin, causing her to fall to the floor, slamming a fist straight into the chest of the woman, the blade of the vibroknife ripping through the protective bone and into the organs within.

Kaylee releases a heavy breath, straightening herself up. Ignoring the constant sting throbbing at the back of her legs. Zharaji stands, making her way towards the Mandalorian, covered in various saber burns, proximity and physical. Spinning on her heel, Kaylee moves to walk back towards the shuttle-pad, preparing for a long journey back. Enjoying the silence, save for the determined footsteps besides her.

"Not too bad, fer' a feline".  
"Not too bad forrr a Mandalorrian. You owe me".  
" How d'ya get that..?"  
"You would have been an Ex-Rrred head, if I hadn't interrvened". Chuckling, Kaylee shakes her head. Shrugging she allows silence to fall once more, only to pause as the only footsteps heard are her own.

" 'Ey, fur-ball, keep up will y'?" She waits for a remark, furrowing her brows as she receives none. Hesitating, she turns her head to look over her shoulder, her emerald eyes widening at what she's greeted with.

The Cathar, raised in the air, grasping at her fur-covered throat, struggling to gain air into her lungs. Behind her, on the ground, the female Sith glaring at her victim, a bloodied hand raised in the air. Kaylee stares for a few moments, surprised at the survivability of the blonde, grunting as she raises her weapon, as she has many times before.

"Won't y'just... die?" Glaring through the scope, she aims. Her arms steady and her breathing calm and collected, she releases the shot, the plasma-bullet skimming past Zharaji and flying straight into the skull of the weakened Sith. She watches as the body slumps to the floor, dead.

Marching forwards, she blatantly ignores the Cathar tumbling to the floor, her gaze locked on the corpse a short distance away. As the distance between her and the ex-Sith shortens, her stride extends until she's within reach. Sneering, she kneels over the corpse, beginning to pummel her fists into its skull repeatedly.

Each blow reveals more and more of the bone beneath the skin, the Beskar armouring breaking the skull into small shards with ease, only a mess of bloodied goo being left where the corpse's face was once placed.

Kaylee pauses in her actions, coughing catching her attention for a brief moment. She looks over her shoulder towards Zharaji, concern flashing in her gaze for a split second, before she shakes it off and returns to destroying every inch of the unmoving body besides her.

A hand on her shoulder startles her, and she stands up to swing a fist at her attacker, only for the blow to be blocked by a furry palm. Zharaji raises a brow at her, clearing her throat.

"I guess we'rrre even, then".  
"Wha... Whazzit?" returning into the safe-zone, the red haze which had surrounded her vision fades, and she blinks owlishly at Zharaji. Pulling her hand away from the firm grasp clasped around her wrist. The Cathar puts up no struggle, releasing her without hesitation.

"Interresting worrds. Arre you going to tell me what that was about?" Kaylee follows a pointed claw to the previously intact corpse, wrinkling her nose at the leftovers.

"S'nothin' ".  
"Mandalorrian, you'rre a damned good fighterr, but a bloody poorrr liarr".  
"Sith. They're tha' ones responsible fer' mi'Clan getting slaughtered. I 'ate them. With a passion. I wann' kill 'em all. Make 'em pay fer' what they did. She's only tha' beginning".

She stares at the Cathar's face, eyeing her reaction cautiously. Unsure on why she was even explaining her actions to a near-stranger. Barely knowing the Feline, they'd only met two weeks ago, barely three. Yet, for some strange reason, she felt akin to the Cathar. She knew they had something similar to each other, some form of hidden 'bond'. But to entrust such information to her? No, it wasn't her kind of thing to do.

So why do it now?

Her line of thought is broken as the Cathar places a hand on her shoulder, her gaze oddly understanding, softened in intensity. She wasn't sure what the change was, but she knew in that moment, that something had shifted between them. Perhaps not friendship, but acceptance.

A bond of shared history.  
And for that reason, Kaylee didn't feel so alone any more. She wasn't the only one with such a devastating loss.

"Come on. Let's get out of herrre. We have a drrrink to have".  
"Y-yeah. Sure". Zharaji nods at her, removing her hand from the Mandalorian's shoulder, allowing her arm to drop to her side. Turning around, she nudges her head to the side, indicating for them to move on.

Exhaling, Kaylee nods and follows suit, stepping in line with the Cathar. The two silently making their way to the shuttle-pad once more, the journey taking its toll on the pair's injuries. Unlike before, each show concern at the other's expense, Zharaji occasionally outstretching and arm to steady Kaylee's steps as she stumbles, and Kaylee slowing down once she realises the Cathar slowing down due to the vertical burn in her chest.

* * *

The shuttle lands steadily into Dromund Kaas, the hiss of the hydraulics echoing around the spaceport. The door sliding downwards to form a ramp for the duo to descend. As Kaylee places her foot first onto the ramp, she trips and grunts in suppressed pain, the injuries at the back of her legs beginning to cause her further discomfort. She sighs, pushing herself up, squeaking in surprise as she feels her weight being uplifted, a pressure underneath each of her forearms, bringing her fully to her feet, allowing her to regain her balance.

She looks over her shoulder, nodding her thanks to the Cathar behind her, taking tentative steps forwards until she reaches the end. The heavy steps of the feline behind her, not too far away.

"S'what's the plan now?"  
"Now? We rrest, drrink, and then take ourr backside's back to Korrriban".  
"Huh? Back?"  
"Got to hand in the job. Besides, odd how she was the one to find us, and knew who we werrre".  
"...Fair point".

The two continue on their way, pausing outside the Kaas Spaceport. Zharaji peers up into the sky, her ears perked forwards, her eyes briefly closed as the usual rainy weather dots her furry features. Kaylee smirks, eyeing the Cathar's actions, unable to stop herself from thinking on just how cat-like this new companion seemed to be.

Shaking her head in a dog-like fashion, Zharaji frees her mop of hair from the water soaking its strands, droplets flying from her and onto Kaylee, resulting in a protesting "'Ey!". Zharaji grins at her, revealing her pointed fangs, the amusement shining through her eyes.

"Sorrry".  
"Hmph. Friggin' fur-ball".  
"Whateverrr".

Kaylee smirks, turning walking to the Speeder Taxi, paying for a trip of two. As the speeder sweeps through the air to a stop besides her, she motions for the feline to join her, climbing in the seat. The Cathar following suit.

* * *

Entering the normally bustling Cantina, the pair were surprised to find it empty, save for a few patrons dotted around the bar. Approaching the bar-droid, Zharaji exchanges credits for a glass of Tihaar and Keela, leaning forwards and resting her arms atop of the surface.

Kaylee, lifts the glass to her lips, taking a deep sniff inwards, revelling in the strong, burning sensation tickling her sinuses. She grins, draining the glass in one, not even wincing as the once-was degreaser. Her gaze flicks to the Cathar besides her, her thoughts once more beginning to drift.

"So, how d'ya want to go 'bout this?"  
"I'm not surrre yet. I'll let you know".  
"Na'. We're in this t'gether now". She offers a warm smile to the feline, nodding genuinely. Her smile only widens as, after a brief pause, Zharaji appears to agree.  
"Verrry well. Togetherrr it is. We'll need a place so we can speak... prrivately".  
"Great! I know a few places. I can fly us t'em!"  
"No..! No. That's... quite alrrright".

A snort and a muttered 'Spoil sport' later, Kaylee finds herself being slapped around the back of her head. She blinks, surprised, turning her head to peer at the smirking Cathar.  
"Did... Did'ya jus' hit me?"  
"No. My hand slipped".  
"Bitch".  
"Of courrrse".

Sharing a grin, genuine for once, the two return to their respective drinks, secretly plotting revenge on their mutual contractor.  
The said contractor, Zrenuith, is currently within Korriban. Crushing a poor unsuspecting victim's heart from within, using the force and a clenched fist to apply gradual increasing pressure, before his prey falls limp to the floor. Dead.

The duo's journey, has only just begun.


	5. Chapter Five: Duty

**Chapter Three of the Beginning Tales, Zharaji's point of view.**

* * *

 **Chapter Five: Duty  
**

Zrenuith's voice echoes from the held holo-recorder, the rattling of the shuttle's motions in the background. The one thing Zharaji notes, is that she could sense some form of hidden emotion in the Sith's voice. As if someone, or something had caused him great displeasure. Her ear flicks as she turns her focus back onto his words, her gaze momentarily resting on the sleeping Mandalorian on the seat besides her.

"Meet me in Dromund Kaas, in the high-rise building on the outskirts of the city. No one, but you and your...flea, is to follow. Your weapons will be removed on entry. Be here. Two hours". With that, the call is cut, and the shuttle falls into silence, save for the light snores coming from the red-head. Zharaji turns her head, watching the sleeping Human, drifting into quiet contemplation.

They had no proof that they were set up. Not concrete enough to start throwing around accusations. It bothered her, true. But she wasn't willing to put her life on the line for something she may or may not correct about. The question was, how to prove it. Blinking slowly, her jade eyes turn away from her companion, ordering the pilots to change direction, before deciding to watch the stars and various Outer-Rim planets pass her by, outside the shuttle windows.

"Wha-whazzit... N'Sith...Git". The unintelligible mumblings from her left brings a smirk to her lips, and she shakes her head with a quiet chuckle escaping her vocal cords. Kaylee was strange to her, yet oddly comforting to have by her side. Despite the unmentionable amount of dribble slipping from the corners of her lips, she was a fairly commendable Human. Loyal, extremely skilled, and as much as she hated to admit it, she was good company and a change. She brought fun to the jobs which she had been doing for countless numbers of years. Fun which she hadn't experienced since her kit-hood.

She grunts, breaking her line of thought as Dromund Kaas gradually comes into view. She releases a sigh, bracing herself for the god-awful landings that seems to be a popular occurrence. For once, the planet isn't covered in the patter of rain, though dark clouds hand over the landing pad, threatening to spill their fill over the newcomers. Standing up, hunch-backed due to her height, she shakes Kaylee awake, the red-head jolting in surprise. Tiredly, she blinks, taking a glance around their surroundings and rubbing her eyes, before nodding up at the Cathar.

"We 'ere?"  
"We arrre. Drromund Kaas, we'rrre supposed to meet him in some high-rrise building. Know of the location?"  
"High-rise? Eh, ye', I think so. Should be somewhere in th' lower end of Kaas. I'll know 'em when I see 'em".  
"I see. Let's go, then. We can't keep the 'masterrr' waiting".

* * *

The entry to the building is anything but welcoming. Dimly lit and unusually wide, the near-empty entrance makes the Cathar's fur stand on end, her claws semi-extended. Besides her, Kaylee releases a whistle, the sound echoing through the room and into the hallway beyond, causing the Mandalorian to grin in amusement to herself. Zharaji flicks her gaze towards her, raising a furry brow in bemusement, a slight smirk playing upon her lips, "Enjoying yourrrself?"

Kaylee nods once, taking a glance around. The only light source appears to be several wall torches, illumination a small section around them and the wall they are placed upon. The decorations are non-existent, with only metal seats and each end of the doorway leading into the hall. Peering at the feline, Kaylee shrugs, "Doesn't look like 'e has many parties".

Sharing a look, the two continue on their way, searching for the main room, finding it at the far end of the first hallway. Hollow, the hallway is decorated with four other doors, each leading to a different part of the building. Two of which leading to the upper levels, and Zharaji briefly wondered what the Sith used each of the rooms for. She highly doubted him to have his living quarters in such a location. It didn't fit the stereotype of being a Darth.

Through the doorway and into the 'office' of Zrenuith's, Kaylee and Zharaji are greeted with the eyes of two guardsmen, who watch each and every movement made. Stopping the duo as soon as they enter, they are separated from each other and directed to each side of the room, and are promptly padded down for any hidden weaponry. Finding nothing, a nod is offered to the Darth situated behind a desk on the right window-side, who sits with his hands clasped upon the surface.

In the middle of the room, a large statue holding a large, flaming torch stands. Overlooking the Cathar and the Mandalorian, almost glaring down at them as they make their way towards the Sith. Behind the statue, at the far end of the room, is a large screen with various flashing lights and buttons. Kaylee's eyes widen at the sight, her fingers twitching in poorly held temptation, a nudge from the feline besides her snapping out of her fascinated, longing gaze at the console.  
"Ah, so you arrive. I must admit, I am surprise you managed so well. You did not suffer too many... injuries... I trust?" Zenruith leers at the two, waving a hand at two seats at the opposite side of his desk. Reluctantly, Zharaji and Kaylee take their seats, on edge and aware of their surroundings, "We took herrr down easily enough. Howeverrr, she seemed oddly awarre of wherre we would be".

Zrenuith scrutinizes the Cathar, giving a slow, calculating nod, "Is that so? And what makes you think such a thing?" He removes his hands from the desk, raising a single, wiry brow. Waiting for the feline's answer. Besides her, the red-head remains quiet, her hands entwined with each other on her lap, as she watches the two converse.

"She was at neitherrr of the places I trracked herr movements to be, and instead was at a location wherrre it was most beneficial to herrr. As if she had been... tipped off".  
"I see. And who do you suppose 'tipped' her off?" Zrenuith stares dangerously at Zharaji, his lips thinned and his eyes narrowed, as if to dare her to accuse him of such an act. Painfully aware of her lack of evidence, the Cathar simply replies with a one-sided shrug and the shake of her head.

"I don't know. It could be anyone".  
"Yes... Yes it could. Very well, here is your payment", as per usual, he slides a hand into his robes, slipping it into the inner pocket and pulling out a small data-chip, flicking it onto the desk in front of the two, turning his attention to the Mandalorian as Zharaji sweeps it up in her palm, "And here is yours".

With that, he would remove a credit-chip worth two hundred, flicking it onto to the desk in the same manner. Not taking a moment to hesitate, Kaylee would mimic Zharaji's actions, swiping up the credit chip in her palm and slipping it into her utility belt. "Ta', pleasure doin' business wit' ye'".

"Have you got any furrrtherr jobs forr us?" Zharaji questions, tilting her head as she peers at the Darth, watching his lips curl into a smirk, his eyes twinkling in an unpleasant manner. "I will inform you, as it comes".

Kaylee raises a brow of her own, sparing a glance towards Zharaji who simply nods and without waiting for permission, stands up from her seat. Zrenuith watches in mild amusement, waving a hand to the entrance, "Begone, then. I do not wish for this place to be contaminated any further".

Following the lead given, Kaylee rises up from her seat also, following the feline's actions, offering a simple nod towards Zrenuith as the two take their leave, exiting the same way they came.

The elevator ride down is awkward, and quiet. None of them speaking, lost in their own thoughts. The only sounds being that of the various gears and cogs turning in the background, the chain of the elevator rattling with each passing floor. Zharaji turns her gaze to the floor as she ponders her next move.

As the resounding 'ping' of the elevator sounds, signalling they've reached their desired floor level, the doors open to reveal the desolate streets of Kaas City. Stepping out, they silently walk side by side until they exit the city and enter the vast wilderness of Dromund Kaas, the skies finally releasing their water-flow, dripping onto their heads like teardrops, sliding down their cheeks and onto the floor below. It doesn't take long until they're in a fully formed storm, the rumbling of thunder over their heads echoing along the sky, partnered with the occasional flash of lightning, blanketing the darkened sky with brief illuminations of white.

"Why didn' ye' tell him who y'thought set us up?"  
"You mean, why didn't I tell a Darrth, to his face, that I thought he was the one who set the hit on us, with no dirrect evidence?"  
"...Exactly!" Kaylee nods with a grin, pausing momentarily as takes a second to rethink her reply, her grin fading slowly. Zharaji smirks at her, raising a furry brow. "Ah, righ'. Darth's are strong ey'?"  
"Indeed. They'rre the bosses of the otherrr Sith. They demand rrespect".  
"Bu'... Respect is earned, no' given freely".  
"Not in the land of the Sith, it isn't", Zharaji shrugs, her gaze focused ahead as they make their way down the pathway, towards the taxi-speeder service, paying for their journey. As it comes, they hop into the seats, the Cathar leaning back into her chair as she takes a few, cherished moments to relax and close her eyes, her ears constantly on the move as she remains aware of her surroundings, Kaylee however, naturally doing the opposite, leans forwards in her seat, attempting to press various controls on the speeder, the driver swatting her hands away in irritation, with a few accompanied tuts.

"Wha's this do?"  
 **Click.**  
"Oh, n'this?"  
 **Click.**  
"Wha' about th-" She cuts short as the clearing of a throat interrupts her words, and she turns her gaze towards the Cathar. With a single eye peeked open, Zharaji stares towards Kaylee with a smirk, her head tilted in questioning, "Finished?"  
"...Migh' be?" Kaylee grins sheepishly, shrugging as she pushes herself away from the controls, much to the relief of the driver. Her still-sitting shortly lived as she fidgets in her seat, ready to be on the move again.

The taxi slows to a halt as they reach a location known as Outpost Warden. Various tents covering the merchant's and their goods from the poor weather. Another rumble of thunder rolls across the sky, the usual brief flash of lightning following shortly afterwards. Hopping out of the taxi, Zharaji and Kaylee make their way down the path, turning left at a separation of the road and entering a caving in the rock-face. Ahead, the stairway to the Dark Temple looms, it's over-powering aura close to drawing them in.

"We stay herrrre. I don't trrust Zrrenuith to not send another one of his minorrs afterr us".  
"We couldn't 'ave stayed fer' a drink first? M'parched!" Kaylee wanders into the deeper end of the cave, exploring it's depth. Hearing a rustle behind her, she looks over her shoulder, watching as Zharaji rummages through her utility belt, tugging out a Liquid Canister. The Cathar throws it towards her companion, giving an approving nod at the skilful catch, grinning as the Mandalorian pops the cap and begins to drink the liquid within without hesitation. Her grin only widens as Kaylee splutters and spits out the contents, wrinkling her nose in disgust, turning her gaze towards the feline in a mixture of shock and confusion.

"Water? Y'giving me **water**?"  
"Yes. It's what norrrmal people drrink when they arre thirrsty".  
"S'poison! Y'trying t' poison me", Kaylee takes a second, hesitant sip before shaking her head, coughing. She places the cap back onto the canister, throwing it back at the Cathar who catches it with relative ease.

Taking a long look around the chosen cave, Zharaji takes in the 'decor'. The first thing she notes, is that it's dry, though that's what she was hoping for. Resting in the rain is anything but satisfactory for her, and though she dislikes being compared to a cat, it's a well known familiarity that Cathar's and water do not get along, save for when it's bath-time and general crossing of lakes and rivers.

The next thing she notices is that is dark. With no way to light up their position, she decides a fire is a must, and begins to search the ground for any signs of twigs and dried grass. Though having limited visibility in the dark, she realises that her Human partner would have none, and sets to preparing a campfire, gathering smaller rocks into a circular form.

"Watch'a doin'?" Zharaji glances up from her knelt down position, tilting her head at Kaylee. She clears her throat, motioning to the created circle.  
"Prreparring a firre. I'll go out and starrrt hunting forr the sticks and grrrass. Perrhaps food. You stay herrre and keep watch. See what you can find furrther down in the cave". She smirks as Kaylee responds with a nod and a mock-salute, turning on her heel to explore the innards of the cave.

Standing up, she brushes herself down and turns to face the exit. Exhaling as she faces the cold once more, making her way into the wilderness once more, leaving the cave and the Dark Temple behind her as she begins her hunt for supplies and food, sparing a brief glance behind her, before sprinting off to do her duty.


	6. Chapter Six: Taethis' Tales

**Chapter Three of the Beginning Tales, in Kaylee's Point of View.**

* * *

 **Chapter Six: Taethis' Tales  
**

The meeting with the Darth, in her eyes, was a complete bust. They didn't get to confront him, and it was a quick in and out, leaving her very little time to explore and cause some havoc for the Sith. Still, at least she got her payment, which was a plus.

What caught her attention, however, was the payment which Zharaji received. It wasn't Credits, which was what she expected, but a data-chip. She didn't ask what was on it, she felt it wasn't her place. But it didn't mean she wasn't going to stop wondering. Perhaps a flaw of her own, but the mystery of the information on the chip fascinated her. What fascinated her more, was the eagerness which the Cathar showed when it was presented to her. Her usually cool and calm demeanour disappearing for those brief moments.

Now they found themselves located in a cave, just a moments walk away from a Temple. Her senses tingled unpleasantly each time she gave the place a glance, and she was relieved to find that they weren't getting any closer to it.

Watching the Cathar exit the cave, Kaylee felt oddly alone. She enjoyed Zharaji's company and to find herself suddenly on her own in a cave with goodness-knows-what, it was all not to her liking.

Tugging her Sniper from her back, she sets it to Lethality mode, holding it firmly in her hands, ready to fire at anything that moves. Taking wary steps forwards, she trudges into the depths of the cave, the darkness swallowing her whole. Using what little charge available, she tugs out an illumination droid, allowing it the light up the way.

Each step echoes along the walls of the cave, fading far into the distance. Spider-like creatures scurry away from her feet, hiding in their tiny homes. As she progresses further inside, the desire to turn back grows, and she forces the feeling down, swallowing thickly. Speckles of dust rain down onto her hair, and she shakes the strands free. With a grunt, she pushes her helmet onto her head, twisting it secure, protecting her head from any heavier debris, "Feckin' caves.."

A sound from behind her catches her attention, and she spins around on her heel, her weapon poised, her eyes glaring through the scope. In the dimly lit cave, all her eyes catch is the glimmer of dust sprinkling down from the roof and onto the floor, a gritty snow littering the air.

Seeing nothing, Kaylee hesitates before turning back to the deep-end of the Cave, continuing on her exploration. Her weapon not quite lowered as she breathes heavily, listening out for anymore sounds from behind. In her attentiveness to the area behind, she missteps, stepping onto a single, round rock, the stone rolling from under her and she topples to the floor, her finger sliding from the trigger, the weapon flinging along the ground.

"Wh-Aagh!", as her body hits the ground, the Beskar covering her body thankfully taking the brunt of the fall, she releases a grunt. "Bloody... Feckin'... Caves".

She pushes herself up from the ground, shaking her head. Her arm stretching out for her palm to clasp around the barrel of her Sniper Rifle, and she suppresses a wince at the tug on her shoulder. Once fully up on her feet. she takes a glance around, as if to check whether anyone saw her stumble, mentally punishing herself at her own foolishness.

Taking tentative steps forwards, she continues on her way, gripping her Sniper rifle slightly tighter, rolling her sore shoulder. As she walks, a shine in the corner of her eye catches her attention, and she turns her head to peer at the cause. A saber.

At first glance it appears to be just a regular saber, the 'hilt' being the same in appearance to the one wielded by their contact just days ago. The only difference, to Kaylee, seemed to be the quality. The hilt on this particular saber is covered in scratches from over-use, the base lightly coated in a rustic metal.

Stepping closer towards the weapon, the Mandalorian kneels down next to it, tilting her head in bemusement, outstretching a hand as if to grasp at it, clenching only at air as she pauses a short distance away, "Too easy... Much too easy". Pushing back her inner alarm bells, she shakes her head, leaning forwards once more, her fingers closing around the hilt carefully.

She holds a breath as she waits for something to happen, slowly exhaling into the empty space in front of her, as she's met by only silence. The hairs on the back of her neck prickle as she begins to feel a sense of unease, and she stands slowly, taking a glance at her surroundings.

Darkness.

The earlier illumination has faded as the night grew closer with each passing second she spent exploring the sheltered zone.

A ragged cough snaps her attention back to where the saber hilt was previously resting. Her gaze following the earlier over-looked drag marks embedded in the dirt below. She follows the direction of the markings, until her eyes land on a barely visible, hunched over figure.

She stares. The figure doesn't even seem to notice her presence, too engrossed in rubbing his hands together, as if to keep warm, a rushed and frantic muttering coming from his lips, too fast for Kaylee to understand or make any sense from the words being spoken.

As she places a foot behind her, the male looks up, startled. His eyes locked on her, he raised a shaking, withered hand. Lines of wrinkles and scarred skin covering his fingers and palm, like a poorly created glove. Age, she thinks to herself, has not been kind to this fellow.

Similar to the Darth they met with, the male appears to have had a form of corruption. The pigment of his skin, which appeared to have once been a typical humanoid colourization, is now pale and sickly, with dark bags under his hazel eyes. However, where the Darth appeared menacing and cruel at first glance, Kaylee felt un-threatened by this particular male. His gaze holding a certain warmness amidst the slight fear shimmering within.

His robes tattered and unkempt, hair falling past his shoulders, rivaling Kaylee's hair in length. She wrinkles her nose as the smell of the male reaches her nostrils, a musky, unclean smell. Making it clear that he hasn't had a wash in months, if not years. The silvery grey hair covering his skull thick with grease and muck, she watches as he brushes a tangled strand away from his face, and offers her a wary smile, his lips stretching to further reveal a burnt scar running down his left cheek and across his mouth, ending just above his chin, crudely healed, "I've not seen others down here for little o'er six years. What brings you to my 'humble' home, girly?"

His voice mimics that of one who has not spoken for a decade, a struggled, hoarse sound, quiet enough to force Kaylee to strain her ears to hear him speak. Bushy brows rise in questioning as she pauses in her answer, and she swallows thickly, shuffling where she stands.  
"Eh... Nothin'? Explorin', maybe?"  
Explorin'. Mmh. There isn't much to explore down 'ere, young lass. You're best travelling to a more exotic planet, not this 'ere dump hole", he chuckles, his laughter short lived as he splutters and breaks into another coughing fit, the previously shaking hand rushing up to cover his mouth. His body quivering with each breath he takes. As the coughing eventually calms down, his throat rattles with the effort it takes for him to breathe deeply.  
"So, if there's nothin' ta' explore down 'ere... Why are you here?"  
"Long story, lass. Let's just say it starts wit' a task and ends with a betrayal, mh?"

Kaylee lowers herself slowly to the ground, interested in the old male's tale. She smiles within her helmet slowly as he watches her movements, until she's completely on the ground. She folds her legs under her, and tilts her head in curiosity, "Betrayal? By who?"

The man grins revealing his remaining teeth, many of the others either decaying or non-existent. He releases another series of chuckles, this time stopping before he begins another round of coughing, "Ah, so you wish to hear ol' Taethis' tales, do you?"

The old man, now with a name of Taethis, folds his arms over his chest as he leans back against the walls of the cave. His gnarled fingernails digging lightly into his arms as he ponders on the next words to follow. Kaylee waits with patience and barely contained eagerness as she watches him, her palms rested on her knees as she leans forwards, nodding a few times, "Yup. I do. I need mi' entertainment after all".

"Ah, well we can't 'ave the young'un bored, can we?"  
"Nope!"  
Taethis' grin widens in amusement, his gaze lighting up at the chance for long-wished for conversation. He nods once, a low hum escaping his vocals as he observes the female sat before him, "Ah, a'ight then. I'll keep it short, though. Even ol' men in their caves need their rest, you see".  
"Fair 'nuff. I'm listenin'".

Taethis glances around the cave, as if readying to divulge sensitive information. He brings his right hand to his chin, and Kaylee notices he's missing a finger, the left-over being only a stump. He rubs his chin in thought, brushing the whiskers decorating his face with the remaining fingers, the movement as shaky as when she first laid eyes on him, moments ago.  
"Right, well. I'll firs' start by telling you, that tha' trinket you hold in your hand, belongs to myself. I'm a user o' the force, you see. Once a Lord of a powerful Darth, now a mere hermit in a cave. Or well, I say m' a user, my Force abilities were long since severed. I can't call upon it anymore, you see".

Kaylee nods slowly, feeling sympathetic for the ex-Force user. Making a decision, she lifts her hands to the helmet resting upon her head, giving it a firm twist and a pull, removing it and resting it on the ground besides her. She nods for him to continue.

Taethis gives her an approving nod, before continuing his tale. Hesitating as a rustle from the general direction of the exit sounds, and then fades as quickly as it happened, "Anyhow. This.. Darth. I can't remember 'is name all that well. Zen-something or other. Likely still alive in his tower o' power, I dun' know, and I don't care. Still. I worked for him in exchange for the training he could offer. A simple payment, but valuable to someone like m'self".

"Zen? Y'mean Zrenuith? I work fer' him now. M'a contractor, sort'a".  
"That sounds 'bout right. Aye. Still, if you work for that one, you migh' want to be careful".  
"..Whad'dya mean?"  
"Keep listening, and you'll know soon enough". The old one waves a hand, signalling for Kaylee to come closer towards him. Shuffling on her knees, she does so, leaning forwards in anticipation.  
"Y'got mi' attention".  
"Good, good. Well, there was a task I had to do. One which he said was very challenging. You're not the only contractor he's had, y'see. Thing is, they get expensive. Now, a Darth can afford the expenses, but he can't afford for his contractors to see too much, so if he's planning to lay 'em off, instead of cancelling their 'contract', he gets them killed", Taethis smirks at Kaylee, raising a brow as if to make a point known. Clearing his throat, a rattle once more running through, he continues his tale.

"Well, my job was to kill the one who became too 'expensive'. So, out I went. That saber y'hold in your hand being my only company. I had my plan. The one he uses all the time. Wait it out, follow my target until they reach a secluded spot, then strike. Works too, unless they get too clever".

The Mandalorian nods slowly, listening intently to the ex-Sith's re-telling of the events long since happened. Somehow, she knew that this tale would relate somehow to her and Zharaji. Too many familiarities seemed to fold into one, linking each piece together, like origami figures.  
"Wha' happened?"  
"They got too clever, dinnae they? Hah! Gave me a right beatin', but I did what I was told to do. Only thing is, I got laid off n'all". Taethis shrugs his shoulders, resulting in several audible cracks, suggesting the male's bones to be as aged and worn as the body they reside in.

"Laid off..? 'e tried t' get you killed?"  
"Tried being the key word, lass". Sharing a grin, the two pause for a moment, silence being broken only by the occasional scatter of dirt-residing insects. Kaylee averts her gaze, taking in the general atmosphere. She was beginning to like this ex-Sith. A not-so-common feeling when it comes to the force-users of the universe. She didn't trust them, like them, nor want them around. They are, and always will be, a pestilence of the planetary systems.

Clearing his throat, old man Taethis gains Kaylee's attention once more. She watches him, alert and ready to listen for more, inclining her head as she offers a short nod, "M'listening".

"You need to kill him, girl. You and your company. He's bad news; his plans for the rest of us 'weaklings' ain't no good to anyone. End him".

The mandalorian narrows her eyes, cautious. She nods slightly, taking in his expression. His once-easy going face had turned sour in just a few short seconds. His brows pinched into a frown, his mouth tight, "How are me n' Zhar gonn- Hang on, how'd ye' know I 'ave company?"

Taethis barks out laughter, salivia dribbling from within his mouth and down along his chin, "I'm old, girl. Not deaf!" he shakes his head, the amusement once again fading as quickly as it arrived, "Now. He has secrets, we all do. But here's the thing, we ain't all Darth, and we're not all conniving as he is".

"Secrets... Wha' secrets?"  
"For one. Prisoners. He has them. Two, he holds a powerful artifact in his chambers, here in Dromund Kaas. It enhances his Force, you see. Worth quite the credit chip if you're into that sort'a thing". Responding with only a nod, Kaylee flicks her gaze to the ground, pondering. Taethis watches her, running a single finger along his forehead, wiping away the beads of sweat beginning to form.

"Any other secrets 'e may have?"  
"Aye, lass. There's plenty. Only few are important, but all relevant all the same. Third thing he likes to keep hush-hush, is nothing huge when it comes to the person of you and I. But for a Darth? Hah... He has something he cares about. More than the artifact he clings onto".

Kaylee blinks, surprised by the news. She leans forwards in anticipation, nodding at him to continue. Her eyes wide and bright as she takes in his words, not even caring about the repugnant breath coming from Taethis' lips, "What is it?".

"Not a what, but a **who** ". Taethis grins as Kaylee once again blinks. Watching the disbelief flicker across her soft features, before he continues, "Our Darth... Has a daughter".

"A ... Daughter? Wha'... I thought they disowned their kids?"  
"Only if they don't prove themselves, and she's proven herself quite a bit. Still a lot to learn, but she's strong.  
"I see... Where can i find 'er?"

Taethis opens his mouth to speak, however, instead of words he replies with a rasp. Raising a single hand to grab at his own throat, eyes widened in a mixture of horror and surprise. Kaylee looks on, unsure as to what is happening. She darts forwards, attempting to examine his throat, only to be thrown away by an invisible force, straight into the cave-walls behind her. Rumbling follows, rocks and debris falling from the roof and onto the floor.

Taethis stands onto his two gnarled, shaking legs, holding onto the surface of the wall to keep himself steady, still straining for breath to reach his lungs. He throws his left arm to his right, the forgotten saber rattling in the ground below as he summons it to his person, the weapon flying through the air and into his opened palm. Out from the shadows, three hooded figures reveal themselves, snickering with one-another at the poor luck of their targets, brandishing their own sabers, the light streaming through the air as they ignite with a sonic roar, a mixture of orange and red in the now-illuminated cave.

Kaylee pushes herself to her feet, clicking her helmet back onto her head with a firm push and a twist. She grunts, tugging her sniper into a ready-to-fire position, pointing the barrel at each of the newcomers in warning.

The odds are against them. She knows that. What can she, a single Mandalorian do, against three Sith. Taethis is as good as immobile, from what she can tell. Not at all nimble, and any sudden movement looks as though it could snap the old coot in half.

She barely had time to blink before the combat started. With a flick of the wrist and a twist of the body, the three Sith charged at them both. Surprisingly to her, Taethis' held himself well, bracing his weight on his back leg, parrying the attack on him, and throwing the Sith back with a firm high-kick to the abdomen. It was only when he turned to look at his right, when he saw a second Sith readying yet another attack, to which he ducks and sinks his saber deep into the enemy's kneecaps, resulting in a pained cry, and a retaliating swish of the weapon, sending Taethis scrambling to the floor, a burn left in his right arm. The smell of heavily burnt flesh filling the air.

Kaylee fires a shot to the third enemy Sith as he too begins to approach the old man, gaining his attention onto her. She grins at him from under her helmet, taking a moment to mockingly beckon him over, tilting her head coyly. With a laugh, he turns to face her, walking slowly, and with purpose in his approach. She meets him in the middle, her stride wide, and aims the butt of her gun into his face, earning a grunt as it makes contact, the hiss of Beskar revealing that he had his own attack up his sleeve, the armouring protecting her from the majority of the burn.

She inspects the resulted scorch marks on her armouring, exhaling with a sigh. A glimmer of orange from the corner of her eye returns her attention to the sith, managing to avoid yet another blow with a swerve of her body to the left. "Hah! Missed m', ya' git!"

Snarling at her from under his hood, the sith pirouettes on the spot to sweep in a circular motion, the saber cutting through the air and being aimed straight towards her ribcage. Kaylee throws herself backwards, gaining distance, using the time to stare through the scope of her sniper rifle, aiming for the vitals. As he closes in on her, she pulls the trigger, watching as her blaster bolts are reflected back towards her. Grazing past her helmet by mere inches, singeing the walls in the distance as they make contact. She blinks slowly at the hooded male coming towards her, confidence in his stride, "Shit..."

"Slugs, lass! Use the slugs!" Taethis interrupts her line of thought behind her, his voice barely audible admist the buzzing of the multiple sabers invading their ears. The old man opens his mouth to speak again, however he is quickly silenced as he's raised up into a choke-hold by the Force abilities of his current adversaries. Kaylee blinks at the advice given, but gives no pause in acting. She dashes towards her own attacker, dodging the slashing motion of his weapon, headbutting him the face with triumphant "Hah!" as he falters backwards at the unexpected assault. She uses her time to swiftly change her ammunition from the usual energy rounds to slug-rounds, whirling her barrel to point at the enemy choking her new-found ally. She fires, hitting home as the bullet glides into the Sith's jugular, his form folding in on itself as he drops to the floor, dead.

Taethis gasps for air, his already struggling lungs pushed to their limit. He looks up from the ground, into the eyes of the second Sith. The said Sith smirks down at him, raising the saber in his hand. The Mandalorian readies another shot, aiming through the scope once more. However, just as she's about to fire, she finds herself flying through the air, her hand pulling the trigger in a poorly aimed direction. Taethis looks over towards her, their eyes locking on one another, "Death to the bastard Zrenuith".

Kaylee can only watch as Taethis is silenced permanently, the perpetrator's weapon slicing through his very skull, the action performed deliberatly slow and steady as she looks on. Her vision going blurred as her back eventually collides with a sharp rock, halting her aerial progression with a sudden stop. She shakes her head as she stands up, mildly dazed, trying to get her eyesight back to normality, with little success. The two Sith simper to each other, their feelings of superiority radiating from every step they take. Grimacing, Kaylee raises her weapon to her face, glancing through the scope and cursing inwardly as she fails to steady her hands, her footing teetering as she swallows down the nausea threatening to overcome her.

Drawing nearer and nearer, their snickers echo around the caving. Simultaneously, the two raise their sabers, ready to strike her down. She fires, managing to land a hit on the Sith to the right, resulting in a hiss of annoyance. The other dashing towards her in an act of revenge, getting a weak knee into the private regions as retaliation. He releases an unmanly yelp as her leg bangs into his middles, forcing himself to stand up straight, glaring at her.

An angered growl of catharese sounds behind the three, the force-users spinning around to face an irate Zharaji, dual vibroknives raises in a combat-ready stance. Her copper hair dripping onto the ground below. She shakes her head, her pupils dilated into feral slits of black, her eyes dangerously locked onto her targets. She bares her fangs as she takes several slow, predatory paces towards them.

Charging headlong towards her, the Sith are greeted with empty air as the feline activates her cloaking device, the stealth generator shielding her from view. They look around, bemused, only realising their mistake as the previously wounded Sith stares wide-eyed, a reverberating sound being muffled by jagged flesh covering the blades of two inserted vibroknives, one in the back of his neck, the other into the vital area of his lungs, preventing any sound from being released.

Kaylee blinks herself out of the numb surprise she feels at the arrival of her friend, the Cathar flashing a coy grin at the now-alone Sith, "What? Surrrprrised I crrashed the parrty?" Zharaji tugs out her bloodied knives, shrugging a shoulder as the shellshocked rival looks between Kaylee and her.

The Mandalorian grits her teeth as she loads her weapon, firing a projectile towards the Sith, slamming into his facing kidney. Snapping out his trance, he throws his saber in an arch, the Cathar curving backwards to avoid being hit. She barks out a single laugh, using her athleticism to push around him, aiming a flurry of stabs at his back, her own attack being avoided, as he uses the force to create a weak shield around his body, appearing as stasis energy to the eye.

He cackles, twistiing around to forcibly send jolts of electric energy into her body, the Durasteel crackling and lighting up as the force-lightning envelops the Cathar's body, Zharaji being forced into a kneel as she's repeatedly electrocuted. Kaylee grunts, clearing her previous shell-casing and loading another round. She releases her shot, the slug penetrating the Sith's robes and landing a blow in one of his ribs. His focus shattered, he drops the force-ability, allowing Zharaji to bury her knives into his kneecaps, forcing him to the ground, before removing them and roughly plunging the said knives into each side of his neck, tugging on the hilts to slit his throat, ending his life. The Cathar snorts, spitting onto the ground at the side of the deceased enemies, striding over towards Kaylee. She tilts her head, her ears perked slightly forwards as she looks on in concern.

"Alrright?"  
"Mm'? Yeah, m'fine. Nice timing y'got there". The Mandalorian clears her throat, glancing at the feline, pondering. "Y'get the supplies?"

"I got them, had to spend a few crredits, nothing I can't afforrrd". Zharaji watches as Kaylee nods, lost in her thoughts. Deciding to give the red-head a few moments to herself, she takes a glance at the fallen Sith, her eyes stopping at the limp form of Taethis.

"He wa' a friend". Kaylee's voice interrupts her observation, and she turns her head to look at her once more, waiting for her to continue. "We were chattin' when those... Sith people came in. He was tellin' me about... Eh, our suspicions migh' be confirmed".

"Suspicions? I'm listening".  
"'Bout that Darth what's-his-face. He gets rid o' those who have no 'use' t'him any more".

Zharaji nods slowly, turning her gaze away from Kaylee, moving towards one of the fallen hooded figures. She pats his robes down, looting items from his utility belt, before moving onto the next. Neither the first, nor the second held anything of interest to her, however she pockets each item nonetheless. To her, another man's rubbish is another's treasure. She was sure she could find 'some' use of their belongings.

The third caught her attention. The first thing she noticed, at first glance, is that the saber he wielded appeared much more intricate than the other's. She furrows her brows, checking his robe's pockets, releasing a curse as she finds nothing. She then moves to his utility belt, removing a datacube, "Found something".

" T'is it..? Tihaar?" Zharaji chuckles to herself, recognising the hopeful tone in her partner's question. She tucks her hand into her own utilty belt, pulling out a liquid cannister, and throws it over her shoulder, towards Kaylee. The Mandalorian wasting no time in supping the alcohol contained within.

Humming in thought, the Cathar pulls out her datapad next, slotting the datacube into the designated space. Reading the screen displayed. What she saw did not please her.

 _"Target... Cathar.  
Name... Zharaji  
Description... Hair: Brown/Short. - Armour: Durasteel. - Fur: Brown. Black Splodges. Stripes near mouth. - Reward: 100,000 credits for proof of death.  
[Holo-Image of Target]_

Target... Human.  
Name... Kaylee Oridas.  
Description... Hair: Red / long. - Armour: Beskar. Mandalorian Make. - Reward: 100,000 credits for proof of death.  
[Holo-Image of Target]"


	7. Chapter Seven: Whisper of a Bullet

**Chapter Four of the Beginning Tales, Kaylee's Point of View**

* * *

 **Chapter Seven: The Whisper of a Bullet.  
**

 _She could see her targets in the distance. Doubling up, two by two's, side by side. Patrolling the area. Illuminated in the moonlight, armoured Troopers, equipped with A-52 Carbines and the more commonly used DLA-13 blaster rifles. All readied and set to lethality mode. Her datapad shrouded by the shadows between her knees, tracking her ally's movements as the Cathar begins her slow approach to the enemies. A stealth operation, not something she was used to, but necessary all the same. She raises her own weapon, a silencer equipped to cover her position, peering through the all familiar scope, the crosshair resting on the duo closest to the cloaked Zharaji._

She fires, and the Trooper lands dead on the floor. His comrade looking around, alarmed, until he too is taken down by the whisper of a bullet.

* * *

 **[ONE DAY EARLIER...]**

She knew something was bothering Zharaji, but what, she didn't know. No matter how much she asked, she was given answers which didn't add up, or simply shrugged off. It irritated her, and as much as she didn't want to admit it, it hurt her too. She had begun to trust this odd feline, and she was instead greeted with a hard wall. Now, they were stuck in an old destroyed shuttle somewhere in the unknown places of Dromund Kaas wilderness.

There was a lot she didn't know about the Cathar, and the more she thought about it, the more she noticed certain patterns in her partner's behaviour. For one, she was collecting supplies far more often than required. Plenty of wood and food around to last a week, if used in consideration. Two, among the many supplies which were resourceful and of good use, there were always one or two items which seemed to have very little use to them at all, yet the Cathar was always adamant that those kind of items would have their use in time.

Metal footprints snaps her out of her reverie, her gaze locked on the broken entrance of their makeshift home as she pushes herself up to her feet, a Beskar Kal hidden behind her back. The oncoming shadow was larger than her, causing her body to instantly tense up. The past few weeks had forced her guard to be constantly up, always on the alert, ready to defend herself.

Just as she's ready to attack, the form of Zharaji comes into view, and Kaylee allows a sigh of relief to escape. The Cathar raises a furry brow at her, the tell-tale of an amused smirk twitching on her lips, "Someone is on edge".

"Shut it. Whad'dya get us this time?"  
"Usual. Food, waterrr. Wood", the feline lays each item down on the shuttle floor as she names them. Random biscuits wrapped in a tattered cloth, a liquid cannister filled with fresh lake-water, and a large pile of wood.  
"Righ', what's tha' apparent useful stuff yer' brought?"  
"Apparrrent? You'll thank me laterrr". Kaylee watches as the Zharaji lays out several more items, her brow raising higher as each one is revealed to her. She shakes her head, exasperated. Rolling her eyes she interrupts the Cathar's actions.  
"Hol' up. A night scope? Tha' heck are we gon' need one o' those for? An'... is that a trackin' chip?"  
"Yourrr point?"  
"We ain' gonna need those. S'pointless shit. Get rid o' it".  
"We'rrrre keeping them. They'll be useful".  
"Yea', fer spy-hush-hush stuff".  
"Exactly", Zharaji grins, revealing the length of her fangs. Her green eyes bright with poorly hidden mischief. Blinking slowly, Kaylee stares at the semi-cat opposite her, before breaking out into hysterical splutters of laughter.  
"Y-yeah, righ' right. We're gonna sneak int' some Sith's lair, eh? Hah! I know, le's get into tha' Darth Zen-face's place, ey? Righ' close n' all. Pffsh! Hah, y'got humour cat!" She continues to mock and snicker at the idea, her amusement slowly fading as she catches the expression on Zhar's face. Her complexion pales as she stares ahead, swallowing thickly, "Ah... y'serious.. ?"  
"Dead serrrious".  
"Fuc' sake. Can ye' not, for once, try to **no'** get us killed?" Zharaji chuckles quietly, the sound echoing in the ringing sounds of their cover. She leans forwards, her cat-like ears tilted forwards as she replies in kind, "Now wherrre's the fun in that?"  
Kaylee can only respond with a groan, smothering her face into a palm. Muttering in her Mandalorian tongue about the troubles she's getting into.

* * *

 **[PRESENT DAY...]**

Scanning the area, the Mandalorian identified several key locations which would provide a perfect shot. Her only issue, no indication of wind. How would she possibly know which way the wind was moving, with no trees to wave? Each building was over-looking the Darth's Dromund base, however only two were unused. It would mean breaking into the abandoned buildings, just to get a job done which she felt was near least the feline wasn't stupid. In the daylight, the glint of her weapon could all too easily give away her position. The plan was to attack at night. Zharaji apparently had hacking skills too, so the security cameras weren't too much of a worry. All in all, they were well equipped.

She narrows her eyes, humming quietly to herself as she ponders her destination. Coming to a decision wasn't easy. Which one would provide her with better cover, while at the same time allowing her to take her shot without the risk of missing? A noise from behind her forces her to break concentration, turning her head around to peer over her shoulder, nodding at the familiar figure kneeling at her side.

"Figurred it out yet?"  
"Na'. Can't decide which one is better fer' the shot", Kaylee turns back to the buildings ahead, releasing a sigh. "Y'sure this is necessary?"  
"I want to find out what he's up to. He's betrrayed us, that's not something I'm going to let pass".  
"Hrm. True. I'll enjoy watchin' him squirm". Zharaji nods silently, turning her attention once more to the buildings, her eyes glinting in the dim light of dawn. Tilting her head, she grunts to herself, fingering a vibroknife in her right hand, twirling it around with her claws.  
"You'll figurre it out. You'rre betterr at this than me".  
"Damn straight!"  
 **Slap.**  
" 'Ey, bitch".  
"You deserrved it". The red-head releases a 'hmf' at the grinning Cathar, mumbling under her breath, re-focusing too, on the high-rise buildings ahead. She takes in their height, structure and the positioning. Turning her eyes from one to the other, left to right. Seconds later, she nods, making a decision.  
" I'll get tha' left one. S'better cover n' looks ta' be the less secure fer' us ta' get into".  
"Left it is. We'll go forrwarrds tonight".

* * *

 **[Hours Later...]**

They made it into the chosen building easily enough. She sliced through the lock, while Zharaji kept watch, hidden from view with her newly installed cloaking device. Creeping through the building, she can't help but wonder how the building managed to stay upright for so long. It looked as if no-one had lived there for generations, never mind years.

The interior was aged and decayed, with no decór covering the metallic walls. The floor was covered in a thick blanket of dust, the light breeze coming from the broken windows causing it to scurry away from under her feet as she makes her way to the elevator. She snorts as she reaches the dented doors of the lift.

"A risk in itself, considerin' the condition o' this dump-hole", She murmurs into the silence, bracing herself as the doors 'ping' open, taking tentative steps inside. As the doors slide back together behind her, she exhales in anticipation, before idly humming to the poor quality elevator music, inwardly cursing at herself for finding the cheesy tune somewhat 'catchy' to her ears.

The minutes pass on by, despite feeling like hours to her, and she finally reaches the top. The doors slowly sliding open once more to reveal the empty space of the balcony. Paper posters roll around like tumbleweed in the desert regions of Tattoine, bumping into her armoured feet. She allows herself some small sense of satisfaction as she kicks various balls around the ground, snickering quietly as a few fall over the various broken ledges.

" Hope tha' feline ain' down there. Doubt she'd be happy bein' bombarded by balls. Heh, balls". Kaylee shakes her head, freeing her mind from the amusing thoughts, making her way towards a broken outdoor table. She grunts, over-turning it and snapping the legs from the base with a quick stomp of her feet on the rotting wood, the rain weakening it considerably through-out the many weeks and months of it being left outside. Following her actions, she pushes the base towards the edge of the balcony, providing herself some cover, other than the balcony wall.

 _"Rrrancorr, You rready?"_ The mandalorian blinks as her comm whispers to her, and she presses a finger to her helmet's headpeice. Speaking into it in hushed tones.  
 _"Ready when y'are, fur-ball"._  
 _"I'll get you forr that. I'm going in in five. Four. Thrrree..."_

She takes a deep breath, crouching behind the table's base, taking a moment to prepare herself as the feline counts down. She closes her eyes, slowing her breathing rate down and shifting into a more-focused mode, before coming out from cover, peering through her scope. She grunts as she watches Zharaji making her approach, lowering her weapon in order to remove her datapad, activating the tracking chip. The Cathar's movements being recorded, as planned. The tool positioned in between her knees, on the floor.

As the Cathar moves forwards, Kaylee tracks her movement with the barrel of her sniper, the silencer readied and in place, aiming at two trooper's ahead of the feline's path. A finger on the trigger, she presses lightly down, forming contact. A slow breath outwards, and she applies pressure onto the cold metal of the trigger, releasing a single shot. She gives herself no time to wait as she reloads another round, targetting the second trooper, a finger on the trigger once more, and the weapon responds; the bullet whipping through the air to land buried in the skull of her target. She smirks to herself as she prepares for her next victim, Zharaji stalking past the dead trooper's, undetected.

 _"Two down, many more t'go"._ _  
_ _"Good shot, Rrrancorr. Looks like that nest of hairr doesn't hamperr you afterr all"._ _  
_ _"Bitch"._ _  
_ _"Of courrse"._


	8. Chapter Eight: Prisoner

**Chapter Five of The Beginning Tales. Zharaji's Point of View**

* * *

 **Chapter Eight: Prisoner  
**

She'd always known the Mandalorian was a good shot. The task at hand only furthered that opinion of her. To her, Kaylee had quickly become not only a friend, but a trusted ally. Something she rarely wanted, and if she was honest to herself, rarely felt she needed. Not since the fateful day, when her whole world had been turned upside down.

The first meet with the Mandalorian, she recalled, was something of a mystery and the swiftness of the increasing trust something which seemed to just 'click' into existence. Yet here they were, on some stealth-ops, trusting each-other to be there in a second, when danger seemed to be afoot.

Keeping her focus on the mission wasn't difficult. She knew what she had to do, and how to do it. What she did have an issue with, is what she would find at the end of it all. Would Darth Zrenuith be there? Would she find his daughter? Or would there be something else all together? She didn't know, and quite frankly, she wasn't sure if she wanted to know.

Turning her attention back to the present, her ears bounce back and forth at the sounds of movement on her right. She was getting ever-nearer to her target location, the high-rise building standing proudly in the horizon, the lights from the windows sparkling through, and into the night's gloom.

Her glossy green eyes jolt to the right, and she narrows her eyes as she spots a further two trooper guards coming towards her position. Just about as she's ready to pounce with her vibro-knives, the oblivious duo fall to the floor, each with a single bullet wound to the head. She smirks, looking over her shoulder to where she knows her watcher sits. Nodding once in thanks, before moving on through to her destination.

Back on the roof, Kaylee readies another round. She sniggers to herself as she prepares a high-velocity disruptor round, slamming it into the rifle's chamber, before tugging back the bolt, lining up the sight with her next target. Instead of aiming to where Zharaji's next encounter, she aims several meters up, towards the more heavily armoured troopers, guarding the doors of Darth Zrenuith's abode. Waiting until they cross paths, she lets the round fly towards them, finishing with an anguished gasp of her victims, the round rips through the first trooper, and into the other, ending their lives instantaneously. The entrance to the building unguarded.

Meanwhile, on the ground, Zharaji approaches two unsuspecting grunts, both appearing to be smoking on duty, standing whilst conversing. She sneers at their disobedience, her fur wrinkling with the expression. She stalks her prey, getting behind them, before digging her knives into their jugular's, preventing their screams as they look at each other, astonished. Their bodies dropping to the floor with a light 'thud', blood oozing from their wounds. With a sigh, she wipes her weapons on the ground as she makes her way to the high-rise welcoming her. The Mandalorian on the roof collecting her 'goods' before she too, sets course for the target destination.

* * *

As they enter the building, they are greeted with three large paned windows, each showing the darkened sky outside, the light pitter of rain beginning to tap on the surface of the glass. The grating of closing doors behind them breaking the eerie silence. Sharing a glance, they continue, passing various storage units on the far wall, next to the said windows. The light on the ceiling flickers as if running out of power, and Kaylee looks up through her visor, squinting as she stares at it.

Walking left from the elevator, they head into a narrow corridor, where three more doorways loom over them. To their left, a two archways at each side of the corridor, both leading up a large staircase. At the very end, two more sliding doors await them, leading to a large office-room. On their right, another archway stands, leading to a room filled with various sith-like artifacts, saber hilts and datacubes, not unlike the ones Darth Zrenuith gave Zharaji as payment for completing a task.

Once more, windows decorate the walls in this particular room. A single, large one in the middle of two smaller, followed by a second larger one on each side. Zharaji walks in, peering around cautiously, her heavy footsteps echoing as they land on the floor. She inspects the datacubes, picking them up and slotting them into her utility belt, turning around in time to see Kaylee with a hand outstretched, reaching for a saber hilt, a wicked grin on her face. She clears her throat, gaining the Mandalorian's attention.

"Hu-whazzit?"  
"Souvenirrr?"  
"Uhm, maybe?" Kaylee smirks, shrugging a shoulder as she takes two and pockets them in her own belt. Glancing around, she moves towards the exit, the feline in tow. A scratching noise stops them in their tracks, the Cathar's ears flicking as normal at the odd ambiance. Kaylee, on the other hand, readying her rifle and scanning the area for any signs of company.

Upon seeing nothing, they exit the room and continue to one of the side-doors, climbing up the staircase to the floor above. Large statues sitting on pedestals as they rise, glaring down at them with their stone-made eyes. Reaching the top, a doorway to an open balcony stands before them, another familiar archway resting on their right. Kaylee strides forwards, peering out to the floor below, smirking at the various citizens minding their own buisness.

"This way, rrancorrr..." Kaylee turns her head, nodding at Zharaji, and the two make their way into the archway, a daunting statue of a Darth standing over them, the head stretching to reach up a few meters below the ceiling. His arms folded over his chest. Along the walls, various holo-images display, showing different version of torture by a Darth, one displaying the image of a Cathar male, saber burns all along his body, his 'mane' cut unevenly, as if it had been ripped off with force. Zharaji frowns at the image, a low growl escaping her and she turns her head away from the display.

The red-headed Mandalorian allows her gaze to roam along the various other displays, perking up a brow at the image of a young girl, nineteen to her estimation, standing over what appeared to be a younger male. He too with various wounds along his body, visible signs of torture, kneeling at her feet. The beskar-clad woman releases a sigh, and she shakes her head. Moving onto the next room, the sounds of footsteps behind her confirming the feline to be following her.

Zharaji frowns as she spots what appears to be a prison chamber. Various cages scattered along the back wall, and lined in the middle. Some with what was once prisoners inside, now mere husks of the people they once were, others completely empty, save for the specks of dust glittering the bars of the said cages. A second door resting to the far right, a small set of stairs behind it, just in view in the background catches their attention, beckoning them closer. Kaylee clenches her fist as she comes to a halt at Zharaji's side, her knuckles cracking dangerously as her fingers close in on her palm, and she grits her teeth, infuriated.

"If I see that Darth...Zen-face, i'mma paint the walls with his blood", she spits out her words, her voice barely a whisper from such anger. Zharaji merely nods and swallows, extending her claws with a hiss coming from her lips. Flaring her nostrils, she nods to the opposite door, assuming it to be the exit.

What greeted the eye was far from what the duo expected. The male Cathar from the holo-images, undressed and chained to a wall with thick, metal cuffs securing his stocky wrists. Lightning occasionally sparking around the device, causing the subdued cat to jolt, before going limp once more. Scars, gashes and burns merging with his fur patterning, fresh and old, leaving little to the imagination on what had occurred in his time spent within the Darth's company. The stench of blood wafting through the air, and into their senses, Kaylee swallowing down the bile which rises to her throat in disgust, averting her gaze.

Much like the imprisonment room, the atmosphere and general decoration of the room being dark and unwelcoming, a single bulb on the ceiling being the only source of light, not a single window in view, to offer any sort of false feelings of sanctuary. Kaylee squints her eyes as she glares through the darkness, huffing as nothing of interest jumps out at her.

Her gaze trails along the outskirts of the room, taking note of the splashes of blood on the floor, and the occasion dash of the same on the tiles of the walls. She saw nothing, and then… Something. She slowly makes her way to a shape in the shadows, until it finally comes into view.

A table.

" _The fuc'?"_ she thinks to herself, shaking her head as she tilts to observe the various tools and items on a single, thin plasteel tray. Each covered in dried blood, and dirt. Hesitantly, she stretches out a hand, picking up one of the items closest to her, twirling it around in her fingers as she examines it. Footsteps behind her alerting her to Zharaji moving.

A low powered blaster pistol, recently fired, a language unknown to her engraved into the side of the barrel, though it was clear that whoever placed the text there, did so without care. If anything, it looked crude, rushed and dissatisfying to look at. She grunts, placing the pistol down, wanting nothing to do with such a weapon, looking at the other items instead, frowning at the apparent randomness they seemed to be in.

A vial with chemicals, along with an empty injection – though from the looks of it, it hadn't been empty prior to their arrival – and various knives dotted around, some with straight blades, the others curved, similar to that of a scythe, or scimitar type weapon. The Mandalorian hisses as realization hits her, and she snaps her gaze to the rest of the items; a tub of worms, a curled whip, and what was known as an Agony Inducer, all placed onto the plasteel tray, in what she could only guess as no significant order.

"Scaa… Sha tya ler tya a' ri, ra tep?" the voice of Zharaji from behind her brings her back to focus, and she spins on her heel to peer towards the kneeling Cathar, and the object of her attention. The male Cathar does nothing to show he knows the duo are there, instead staring at the ground with deadened, amber eyes. Lifeless, the only signs of him still being in the world, being the heavy movements of his abdomen with each struggled breath he takes. A grating sound coming from the male's throat as he battles to draw in every inch of air he can, into his already weakened lungs.

"He needs med' aid" Zharaji looks up from the ground, peering over her shoulder. Her expression unrecognisable to Kaylee as she stands up to face her. Her ears twisting to flatten against her head, as much as they can, for a semi-feline race.  
"I know him".  
"…Eh?"  
"I know him. He's Rrepublic. A frrriend".  
"I se- Republic?" Kaylee squints her eyes at the Cathar, who spins around on her heel, upon realising the slip of the tongue, kneeling back down to the nearly mane-less male. She grunts, tugging out her blaster pistol from its holster, pointing it to the back of Zharaji's head, "You lied to me".

"No, I just neverrr told you, forr this rreason". The feline looks over her shoulder, her facial expression unreadable, as it takes on a cold mask. Looking towards Kaylee, as though she had swapped places with an ice-queen. Her voice lacking emotion, as she perks up a single, furry brow at the weapon aimed towards her.

"Gimme' a reason why I don't just shoot ya' on the spot".  
"I'm herrre forrr him".  
"…Him?" Kaylee stares at Zharaji, her eyes narrowed. Seething from the knowledge of this fact being hidden from her. " _I trusted her!_ " she fumes inwardly, " _What an idiot!"_

Zharaji slowly rises herself to her feet, not being stupid enough to make any quick movements with the Red-Head so hot in her boots in anger, well aware that the Cathar behind her needed medical attention, and fast.

"Give me a chance to explain, then you can decide forr yourself, what my fate will be".  
"…Fine. I'm listening. Better be good". Kaylee keeps her weapon trained the feline in front of her, not giving into any chances. " _Friends or not'_ she thinks to herself, " _she kept a pretty damned big secret from mi'"._

Zharaji nods, running her tongue of a single fang as she prepares her words. Running them through her mind. Once happy, she nods a second time, her gaze never leaving the Mandalorian's form as her cool as ice voice begins to explain, from the beginning.

"I was borrrn on Orrrd Mantell. My rasve'ri, orrr parrents in common tongue, werrre settled therrre forr a long time, until morre havoc was caused forrr my family. Something, which seems to be a rregularr occurrrance in my historrry, havoc that is". Zharaji waits for Kaylee to nod for her to continue, before speaking once more.

"I won't fill you in detail as to my childhood, howeverrr, a frrriend of mine, was a fellow Catharrr – this one behind me – we werrre what you call best frrriends. We grrrew up, went into ourrr carrreerrs as adults, and he went missing".

"Hm. So why ya' here?"  
"Getting to that. I spent two yearrrs looking forrr him. Two yearrrs of finding no trrace on the Rrepublic side. In the end, I figurrred the otherrr side must have found him, so I starrrted using what I know to get in contact with the Empirrre. Enterr the Darrth. He said he may have inforrrmation on him, and I agrrreed to do a few… tasks… in exchange forrr datafiles which could point me in the rrright dirrrection. Turrns out I've been well and trrruly played".

"Yer' stupid. For trusting a Sith".  
"Perrrhaps. But it's all I had. Now, make yourrr decision. Howeverr, I have one thing to ask – whateverrr yourr choice… luyet, please. Do not speak of this to anyone. I trrrust you that much, to ask of such a request".

Kaylee hesitates, the hand with the raised weapon remaining in the air for a few more seconds, before a low grunt, and a curse in Mandalorian tongue follows, the barrel being pointed to the floor and holstered. "Fine. Let's get him to a medical bay. Quickly".

Zharaji nods, kneeling down and tugging out one of her own blasters, aiming a shot at the chains of the cuff-device, the slug penetrating through the metal. She does the same to the opposite arm, releasing the Cathar male.

With Kaylee's assistance, the feline hoists him up onto his feet, an arm slinked behind her neck and over her shoulders, the other around the red-head. They exit, just as they arrived, together.

* * *

"What do you mean he's gone?! Find those two, and bring that cat back! Or it will be you in chains!"  
"Y-yes my lord. Whatever you say".  
"Stop bumbling, and get out there!" Darth Zrenuith was not impressed. He'd lost his asset to get one up on the Republic, and that did not suit him. Not only had he lost an asset, but his entertainment.

Lives were going to be paid.


	9. Chapter Nine: Ra'jor

**Chapter Five of The Beginning Tales, Dual Point of View**

* * *

 **Chapter Nine: Ra'jor  
**

It had been months since they rescued the male Cathar from Darth Zrenuith's quarters, dodging the occasional guard and answering more than a few questions when stopped by local authorities, none of it being an easy task.

Their success, though unlikely, was confirmed when they were allowed to leave Kaas without much trouble, and they now found themselves in the middle of Nar Shaddaa, bunking in a local cheaply kept hotel room.

Kaylee sighs from the bed where she lies, situated next to a wall at one end of the room, lifting her legs to press her boots against the moulding walls, the wallpaper stained a sickly yellow colour, the ceiling not in much better condition, various tiles having begun to slowly degrade over time. Releasing an uncomfortable grunt, Kaylee adjusts herself, the stiff mattress doing no favours for her aching back, causing various specks of dust to scatter in the air.

The furniture and blankets are equally as filthy and questionable, the distinct smell of musk and smoke filling the air thanks to previous residents contaminating the place with their shady activities, and the common criminal man ordering himself a quick 'treat' for the night. The carpet is near non-existent, various cigarra burns, stains of alcohol and other unpleasant substances littering the floor, the rug in the centre of the room being tattered, the decorative strings at each end having frayed a long time ago.

From the other end of the room, heavy snores break the silence, and the red-head turns her gaze to peer down at the male Cathar currently sleeping on the couch. In the passing months, Kaylee learned a lot about the male, one of those things being his name; Ra'jor Zradiir.

Ra'jor comes across as a strong figure, with wide, bulking shoulders and a mane to match that of a Manka Cat's; starting at the top of his brow to flow backwards into a rugged, half-length cut, ending at the rim of his neck and kept neat by being fashioned in tribal dreadlocks. Each side of his face decorated with sideburns, and his chin adorning a short beard.

The second thing she learned about Ra'jor, was that he was working for the Republic Intelligence when he had gone missing, his disappearance being due to none other than going under the radar and becoming what was classed as a 'Ghost', his existence being wiped from all records. His state of capture being thanks to a deserter, a member of his team who had defected in cowardice, later getting captured themselves, before giving the location of Ra'jor and the rest of the team away, in exchange for survival and false promises of power. The male Cathar made it no secret that he thought such a person to be below him, and deserved no more than a violent and unpleasant death.

The click of the lock to their temporary home jerks Kaylee from her reverie, the Mandalorian red-head pushing herself up from the bed to grab her blaster pistol from its holster, clipping safety off. Behind her, she hears the male Cathar awaken and stand next to her, his 'Regija Zhiv'a' equipped in both hands, poised for combat. As the door swings open, the duo prepare for combat, their expectations of an assault quickly proven incorrect, as the familiar form of Zharaji steps in through the doorway in the company of alcohol set on a single tray, "I thought you'd both wish forr something otherrr than waterr, but judging frrom that rresponse, I'm going to say otherrrwise?" She smirks, perking a furry brow as she eyes the two coyly. Kaylee diving in without hesitation to claim ownership of a bottle of Tihaar.

"Gimme', bloody fleabag", she retorts, removing the cap with her bes'kal, and draining several large gulps from the neck, tilting her head back with her eyes closed in what could only be described as bliss. Ra'jor looks on in a mixture of confusion and amusement, his ears flicking as he turns his gaze from the Mandalorian to peer at Zharaji, "How do you do it?"

"Mrh? How do I do what?"

"Cope with her", Ra'jor chuckles gruffly as he's responded to with a shrug of the female Cathar's shoulders, taking hold of one of the last remaining drinks, placing the neck of the bottle into his mouth and peeling the cap off, his fangs puncturing through the tangy metal.

"So, what's the plan?" The two Cathar turn to peer at the Mandalorian in curiosity, Ra'jor blinking slowly as his eyes trail to Kaylee's chin, where a drip of Tihaar calls home, dribbling from the corner of her mouth. He sighs, bemused as to how he got himself into such a situation, not that he minded it too much. Zharaji, to his surprise, had changed a lot since their kithood. No longer the gangly, innocent and playful Cathar he once was best friends with, but rather this largely built, muscled woman. As for Kaylee, he found himself enjoying her company. Naturally, he was suspicious at first, but after spending a month around the two, watching their casual banter, he quickly learned that the red head could be trusted and had no ill will towards himself or Zhar', despite their obviously troubled ancestry.

He finds himself snapping out of his thoughts as Zharaji jumps in with her reply, "We'll stay herre another cycle, then be on ourr way; we've sat arround doing nothing forr farr too long. Now that Ra'jorrr has had time to allow his wounds to clearr up and gain something on that head of his..." She pauses in her conversation, grinning towards him, revealing to him her fangs. Ra'jor grunts, lifting a hand to his swiftly growing mane, scowling as he mentally notes that some areas are thinner than he'd originally prefer, shaking his head as he's met with mocking snickers. "As I was saying, now that he's managed to rregain his strrength, we should be good to go".

"Go where? That Darth will have his lackeys out searching for us, wherever we go".

"Not everywhere", again the Mandalorian is met with the blank stares of Cathar, Ra'jor's furry brows rising to the top of his hairline as he regards her words, pondering on her meaning.

"You have a location in mind then, Kaylee?"

"I do", Kaylee nods, responding in thought, a finger being lifted to tap at her chin as she does so, her reddish hair falling over her face as she cants her head forwards, her eyes set to stare at the ground. The trio would have to be careful, she knew, stepping so close to Republic territory, though it could prove fatal, but with Ra'jor being a part of the Republic SIS, it may work to being a beneficial factor on their side. The only way they were going to find out, was by trying it. She turns her attention back to the two Cathars who are staring at her expectantly, Zharaji with her arms folded across her chestplace, as per usual, and Ra'jor with a curious expression, his ears slightly tilted forwards as he nods slowly.

"Right" the male starts "Let's be off then, lest we get too into our drinks, mh?" He's met with excited grins, and a Mandalorian shout of 'Oya!', before the doorway to the Nar Shaddaa make-shift home is abandoned, and locked behind their backs.

[Two Days Later…]

"Are we there yet..?" R'ajor sighs as the question is repeated for what seemed like the hundredth time. He grunts, his yellow eyes staring at the Mandalorian in irritation as she pouts towards him, as if it wasn't her idea to make this trip. He glares as she flashes him a coy grin, blinking painfully as the shuttle jars roughly as a passing meteorite slams into the shields, his gaze turning to the sleeping Cathar across from him, her head rested against the interior walls.

"So, how'd y'know 'er?" His eyes slowly turn to peer at the Red-head across from him, noting that in the time he turned his gaze away from her, she had placed her helmet atop of her head once more, hiding her face. He contemplates, questioning on whether he could truly let her in, as the female of his species had done so. It doesn't take him long to make a decision.

"We were friends, as Kii's." He begins, rolling his eyes impatiently as he's met with silence, of which he takes to be confusion at his final word, "Children. Kids. Kits. Whatever you want to call them".

"Ooh. So, you're like… childhood lovers?" She grins as he responds with widened eyes and a cough, masking his awkwardness with a quick glare and the narrowing of his eyes. "No".

"Y'sure..? Cause, th'way you're lookin' at her now, isn't the way of a friend..."

"Positive" He frowns, clenching his fists as he avoids eye-contact with the woman's visor. It's true that he'd been looking at her more than once, when he thought no one was to notice, and why shouldn't he? She wasn't like the typical stereotypes of the feminine genders of most races; she was strong, powerful, stubborn, and took the lead in every situation. All in all, she was what women weren't. Perhaps he had been around too many humans to know that this is what an adult Cathar was, perhaps he didn't care too much, after all, the Cathar were a proud race, and generations depended on them being at their prime, in order to carry out the best of the genes. If he was honest with himself, he found her attractive. Sure, her appearance wasn't something which stood out in terms of 'beauty', but what was beauty to a feline race? Whiskers, fur, claws? No. When it came to the Cathar species, it what how they held themselves, and Zharaji, to his eyes, held herself well. He blinks, realising he was staring once again, as the object of his betraying thoughts stirs under his scrutiny.

"Uh-huh. Definitely nothin' there, other than friendship".

"Shut up, and get to sleep, Mandalorian".

"Tsk, tetchy!" Kaylee smirks, her own thoughts taking a direction of their own, stifling a yawn behind a tired snicker. As she turns so sit sideways on, she mutters incoherently, requesting that their destination comes to them sooner. The stars pass on by, the location they seek slowly getting closer as the shuttle pierces hyperspace, the various stars and planets whizzing past the windows.


	10. Chapter Ten: Hoth

**Chapter Six of The Beginning Tales, dual Point of View**

* * *

 **Chapter Ten: Hoth  
**

They'd spent the tedious duration of a week travelling in the shuttle; a full week of listening and taking part in random conversation which seemed just too irrelevant and trivial in the trio's current situation. The planet of Hoth was cold beyond belief. Kaylee thanked the stars and beyond for her armour's environmental systems, though her travelling companions were not so lucky; their fur standing on end due to the icy wind biting through their fur to nip at the flesh covered by their natural coat.

Their landing wasn't a smooth one, the uneven snow beneath the shuttle causing it to jolt with every bump, the trio banging painfully into the side of the vehicle's walls. Kaylee apparently knew the place well, thanks to her Mandalorian Trials, perhaps that was why she was so well equipped to deal with the planets deathly winter-type weather, either way Ra'jor was not looking forwards to spending his time here, and nor was Zharaji.

No time was wasted as they made their way to what seemed as if it was the middle of nowhere, a thick, blizzard-like gust blinding the trio for up to just three meters in front of their eyes, the entire surrounding area being just a dazzling blanket of white, the snow crunching beneath their feet, breaking the struggled silence.

"It should b'just ahead, not far from 'ere!" Kaylee's breathless voice strains against the wind, struggling to rise above her normal tone, the Cathars flicking their ears, barely being able to hear her, only giving her a nod in response, "This place brings back memories… Mi' Verd'goten. Sort'a like that… Blood Hunt o' yours". The Mandalorian smiles to herself from within her helmet, the sounds of distant combat filling her ears as she recalls her trials and tribulations for becoming a part of the Mando'ad.

"Seeing as you seem to know yourr way, you can tell us when we'rre actually therre, then. This is rrridiculous!".

"From mi' memory, we're about ten minutes away, keep yer' fur on!"  
"What she's trying to say, I would assume, is that our fur is already about to drop off in this kriffing cold"

"Wimps! Pussy-cats!"

"Pu- Why you little ra- " The male Cathar's words instantly stop as the sudden sound of a large splat and crunch is produced behind the two women, Zharaji spinning on her heel to be greeted with Ra'jor face first in the ground. Blinkingly, she watches as he glares up at the two, daring them to show even a twitch of the lips in amusement; much to his displeasure, all it does is cause them to laugh even more so at his misery, as he pushes himself up, brushing his armour down in futile attempts to free himself from his snowy covering, the blizzard only covering up the areas he rescues.

"I guess that rruins the myth of cats landing on theirr feet, mrh, Ra'jorr?"

"...Nei'zvok." Ra'jor smirks at Zharaji, holding no malice in his words as he peers around for the source of his trip. He blinks, spotting the faint trace of blue coating the once-white surface beneath his feet, a hand barely visible, breaking the would-be grave. Frowning, he gazes up at his companions, grunting as he shares an uncertain look with them, before the three crouch down and begin to dig, himself and Zharaji using their claws, Kaylee using a blade concealed within her beskar.

As the three work together to uncover the inhabitants of the snowy graves, Kaylee hisses through her teeth as a cooled, slender finger twitches. She frowns, digging with further vigour, desperate to save the individual underneath, "Oi, Got a livin' one here". Zharaji and R'ajor snap their gaze to stare at her, before their eyes trail down to where she's digging.

"Ra'jorrr, keep digging. I'll help the Rrancorr".

"Got i- Hang on, this one is moving as well. What the kriff happened, here?"

"Not a clue, lets get them out, whoeverrr they arre". Slowly, the blue forms of a Chiss patrol begins to make an appearance, corpses littering the ground; saber burns and what appears to be animal bite marks covering their flesh, the armour they are adorned with completely torn and shredded.

With a surprised gasp, a female Chiss shoots up, her locks of purplish blue left falling over her crimson, pupil-less eyes; her field of vision slowly returning from its blurry state to normality as she takes in the unorthodox trio kneeling next to her. Shivering, she dives forwards, straight towards Zharaji and Ra'jor, and Kaylee firmly grips her shoulder and pulls her back, "'Old it, we're not going t'hurt you, but go fer' them again? And you'll be tastin' bullets".

"Wh- No! My team!" The Chiss points to the trickle of blue blood trailing along the ground in between them, meanwhile Ra'jor returning to digging at his spot, revealing a second Chiss – the only tell tale sign that he lives being the faint sight of his abdomen rising up and down in jagged breaths.

"Jris'avir'aezirm!" The male, known as Jris'avir'aezirm, barely seems to recognise her voice as he coughs, his own body racking with shivers of the cold whilst his eyes remain clenched shut, though whether due to pain or being frozen that way is left to the imagination.

"We need to get him treated. Fast."

"The base. I can take you there, they'll treat him!"

"Lead the way; what's yourr name?"

"Ceqo'sana'vosis"

Nodding for her to lead the way, Kaylee motions for the two Cathar's to lift the near-frozen Chiss from his prison of white, the duo finding no difficulty in picking up his lighter form. Jris'avir'aezirm releases a pained groan, droplets of blood seeping from his abdomen and chest, raining down upon the floor beneath him.

"He's losing a lot of blood, Mandalorian. He won't last long, we need to hurry".

"Gotch'a. G'on then, Ceqo'sa- Sana… Chiss. Lead th'way". Kaylee offers a nod, wrinkling her nose at the pronunciation of the blue-female's name, smiling as she's corrected, "Ta'".

"Sure! Might be easier to call me by my Core name; Qosanavo".

"You couldn't have intrrroduced yourrself like that beforre?" Zharaji's voice coming from the back of the group as they begin to make their way slowly towards the Chiss base, the blizzard calming down, much to the secret thanks of the two Cathars.

"Nope! I didn't know you'd have trouble saying it, we don't get many outsiders around here!" Qosanavo's voice rings out from the front of the line, her vivid blue skin visible just past Kaylee's shoulders, Ra'jor blocking most of her vision on the distance ahead, with his towering height.

Zharaji allows her eyes to remain on the male Cathar's turned back, her thoughts running their own course as she ponders about her long-time friend. She was surprised at how much he had stayed the same, unlike her, though she always knew from a young age, that his shape wasn't going to alter, having some form of toning on his body, even in his immature years.

She was attracted to him, that much she knew, but did she see them as becoming anything more than what they were? She wasn't sure. Secretly, she'd wanted a family for a long time, and with the lack of Cathars on the Empire, it seemed unlikely that she was going to have that chance any time soon. Perhaps this was her chance at happiness. Physically, he was what was needed, or rather, preferred in a mate. Mentally, he was equally so, bouncing back so easily from his ordeal was quite a feat, having no signs of trauma, mental issues, or sleeping issues – though granted, she'd never noticed him sleeping more than a few hours, during the day. Humming in thought, she's jolted from her daydream by an elbow in the ribs, her eyes snapping to peer at the armoured woman at her side.

She's almost thankful she cannot see the expression on the Mandalorian's face, as a smug comment comes from the helmet, "Enjoyin' yerself?"

"I was day-drreaming. Therrre's nothing to enjoy".

"Jeeze. No wonder y'both were best friends. You're exactly th'same". Kaylee is greeted with a silent and bemused blink, Zharaji's brows furrowing into a frown, "What do you mean, 'the same' ?"

"Oh, nothing..!" Kaylee snickers to herself as Zharaji responds with a grunt, Ra'jor meanwhile seeming to be in a conversation of his own with the energetic Chiss, the male, Jris'avir'aezirm, being carried by the two Cathars continuing to breath harshly, and with a great struggle.

Ra'jor chuckles quietly, finding Qosanavo to be charming, in her own right, shaking his head at the statements made. She was easy to like, though her lack of xenophobia came as a surprise to him; she wasn't normal. A pained gasp sounds from behind him, his ears flicking at the noise as he looks over his shoulder at his travelling companions, following their solemn gazes down to peer at Jris'avir'aezirm. He was silent.

Noting the trio falling quiet, Ceqo'sana'vosis turns her attention to gaze at the three, blue bushy brows furrowing into a frown as she stares, before slowly trailing her gaze to her friend, "J-Jris'avir'aezirm..?" Her lower lip quivers, her complexion paling into powder-blue, as worry glimmers in her crimson eyes. "Quick, the base isn't too far away. Hurry!"

"Zhara,' Give him here. I'll carry him – it'll be faster with just me holding him. You run with the others".

"How farr behind will you be?"

"Not very. Go on. I'll be right behind you all". Ra'jor nods at Zharaji, the mercenary giving him a nod in kind as she offers the other half of Jris'avir'aezirm's form, the male Cathar scooping the Chiss in his arms with ease.

"Be safe, Ra nya'mayu", final words parted as Zharaji rushes to the base in the far distance, Ra'jor hot on their heels with the lifeless Chiss in his arms, the distance between them increasing as Ra'jor takes care not to jolt the injured soldier in his grip.

As the base slowly comes closer, Kaylee narrows her eyes as a multitude of clicks and weapons aimed greet them, a hand slowly gliding to her hip, where a simple blaster calls home. Chiss of different ages and sizes stare them down, glowing red eyes unmoving from their forms as they silently threaten them with their weapons raised.

"Put down yourr weapons. We have one of yourr own with us". Zharaji's voice sounds from behind Kaylee, and the Mandalorian beckons behind her, where Qosanavo waits. The blue female carefully treads around around the red-head, joining her people at the front, tugging the arm of the leader, to coax him to one side, a large, heavily toned Chiss, with a large rifle at his disposal, ready to fire at any given moment.

Silently, he signals for the rest of his group to keep a close eye on the two companions, Ra'jor joining them with the deceased male in his arms, barely panting from his efforts. Blinking slowly, he strides to a halt, observing their situation closely, his furry brows pinching together into a frown, ears flicking at the hushed whispers in the far left corner, where Ceqo'sana'vosis and her boss converse.

"Bring him over". The trio's eyes turn to the one who spoke, Ra'jor stepping past the two women to gently place Jris'avir'aezirm down on the ground, in front of everyone. Silence follows. One by one, each set of eyes turn to the Cathar who stands tall, his arms folded around his back in a formal manner. "Where are the others?"

"Dead".

"You killed them". Zharaji narrows her eyes as she joins Ra'jor's side, Kaylee slowly following suit as she subtly removes her blaster pistol from its holster, holding it behind her back. "No. He did not, norr did myself orr the Mandalorrian".

"We'll see". The male turns to stare to his left, a string of Cheuhn coming from his lips as he barks orders to his people, action being taken immediately as Jris'avir'aezirm's corpse is collected and carried into their base of operations. "Very well. You have our thanks for bringing these two back to us, relatively safe. Leave, and do not return".

Zharaji and Kaylee blink slowly, Ra'jor opening his mouth to respond, silenced by the brush of a palm over his wrist, causing his gaze to fall down to stare at the area where Zharaji's claws are wrapped around his person. Kaylee clears her throat, turning to turn away, briefly offering a nod of farewell in Ceqo'sana'vosis' direction, and Ra'jor's gaze flicks to Zharaji's.

"Let's go".

"Right; got it". The male Cathar nods, escaping from Zharaji as he strides out in front, his mind twisting and turning in thought. Behind him, a certain Red-head and friend speak in low tones, Zharaji with a scowl upon her expression, Kaylee with a wide, teasing grin hidden by her helmet.

 **[TWO HOURS LATER]**

The encampment was not what either Zharaji or Ra'jor expected; A tent, perhaps. A rickety-looking shack in the middle of nowhere, possibly. But it was neither.

Instead, it was a cave in the middle of a lone mountain, out of reach and out of sight to a regular passer-by with intricate wall-lamps decorating the walls, each lit with a single, dancing flame. Within the cave, the three companions sit comfortable with a hastily, yet well-made fire in the middle of them, their stomachs demanding the deliciously rich food cooking just within reach, in front of them.

Kaylee licks her lips in anticipation, her stomach releasing an angry growl which echoes along the rocky walls, her gaze slowly trailing to her two companions. She felt as if she should say something, after all, she'd known Zharaji long enough now, and they were relatively at ease with and around each other once more, after their initial falling out. That had been months ago, and she had quite obviously seen the developments of how close the Cathars were with one another, both as stubborn as each other too, she felt. They were stopping themselves seeing what was there.

A quick crack and a sudden pop of the fire forces her to return her gaze back to their meal-to-be, the meat now a luscious brown, the smell of food filling their nostrils as another growl rips through their stomachs. Kaylee carefully removes the steak from above the fire, checking if it had properly cooked, before separating it into equal sections for them all to share.

The meal, though the portions were more meagre than satisfactory, left Ra'jor with a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach. Their discussions had varied from pleasurable topics to those more serious, delving into plans on where to proceed and the watch-rotations they were to take. It was Zharaji who was to take the first watch, as a one by one, stars dotted the sky. It was a beautiful, and it wasn't long until the soothing, cool night had caused the Mandalorian and Ra'jor to drift into a slumber, leaving Zharaji to watch the entrance.

Above them, atop of the mountain and out of sight, a thin, agile female figure stands, watching over the trio. Crimson eyes glisten in the night-sky as she allows her thoughts to run the light-hearted conversations she had heard through her mind; she wanted that. The Chiss Ascendency was her life, it was who and what she was, and yet she wanted more. She wanted companionship, friendship, and security. Perhaps it were to be these three which offered her such.

 **[TWO HOURS LATER]**

Zharaji stares outward, taking in the scenery before her. She was transfixed by the beauty of the place, despite the reason they were situated there. Never one for the indoors, Zharaji prefered to be outside, in the open, and though the icy air nipped at her fur, causing her ears to feel numb and non-existent, she couldn't help but feel oddly at ease where she sat, a fresh fire in front of her, whilst the previous one within the cave, had long since died out.

Stirring from behind jolts her back to reality, and she poises for action, turning her head over her shoulder to peer at her approacher. R'ajor.

"It isn't yourr turrn yet, you rrealise?"

"Couldn't sleep. Anything worth mentioning?" Ra'jor observes the female Cathar sitting in front of him, kneeling down to join her level as he listens to her reply, nodding slowly as he's only informed of peace and quiet, save for the occasional wildlife making an appearance, "I see. In that case, I'll give you company. It cannot be very enjoyable sitting and waiting for something to happen, hm?"

"I don't mind the quiet, but join if you wish". Zharaji tilts her head up to peer at Ra'jor, taking in his appearance. His mane was tussled and frazzled in all directions from sleep,- though she doubted it would be peaceful rest he had managed to get. She's noticed it, more so than she cares to admit, that he has been having a hard time in getting a good nights sleep, and it bothered her. How could he possibly keep watch, if he was so tired?

"Better than lying on my back staring at rock, isn't it? I have to admit, Zharaji, its surreal seeing you sat there, like the years haven't gone by" Ra'jor starts, moving from his kneeling position to sit at her side, legs stretched out in front of him and hanging over the edge of the ledge upon where they converse. Zharaji turns her gaze towards him, her verdant eyes glittering in the light of the moon and the fire, her expression incoherent to him as Ra'jor meets her gaze, fascinated by the creature before him, who was once his best friend. He was transfixed by her, and it takes every emotional strength he contains to pull his own gaze way from hers. Unbeknown to his inner turmoil, Zharaji shifts her weight, pondering on her reply.

"You werrre, and arrre, my best frriend. I wasn't willing to let that go".

"You should have, Zhara'. You don't know who you are dealing with". Ra'jor speaks slowly, with a firm tone as he returns his attention to stare at her, a hint of sadness within his cool, yellow gaze.

"Zrrenuith? He's kits play. He's weak."

"No, listen to me. He isn't. Now that you, and I have escaped his clutches, he will do everything in his power to get me back. You included. You must **not** let him get a hold of you." Something in his voice forces the female Cathar to peer at him, blinking as she's taken aback at what she sees.

Ra'jor, fearful. It wasn't possible that a single man, no, Sith, could cause should a reaction. He was fearless, had always been fearless, right from when they were kits. For something to have affected him so, it was worrying. Hesitantly, Zharaji presses her palms upon the cold stone floor beneath her, lifting herself up and shuffling towards her best friend, silently taking his right hand in her left, observing the difference between them as she speaks, running her tongue over a fang within her mouth anxiously. "I… will not let him get to you, Rra'jorr. I prromise. He won't rrruin ourr people anymorre".

"It isn't me, I am worried about, Zharaji" Silence envelopes the two as Zharaji thinks carefully on her next words, awfully aware of the contact between them, and the lack of distance. Their shoulders almost touching, she glances down at their joined hands once more, fingers entwined. Her palm fit neatly in his, neither smooth skinned, nor furred, rather they were callous and rough from times of combat and travelling in harsh weathers. Subconsciously, she squeezes his hand.

"I'll be fine, Rr'jorr. I always am; besides, I have Kaylee".

"The Mandalorian? She cannot offer you as much companionship as one of our own, surely? We're enemies, Zhara'. We're not supposed to be… friends. Don't get me wrong, I like her, but she's not… Cathari".

"I wouldn't have found you, without herrr".

Ra'jor ushers no reply, instead only a sigh is formed as the duo allows the quiet, for a second time, say the unspoken words for them. He knew she was right, in a way. Kaylee had helped him, in more ways than one; She treated his wounds and brought him Zhara, whom he thought had long since forgotten about him. He expected her to be with someone by now, such as Tra'var - A male who was very much his rival in his younger years - and be preparing to have kits. Yet, here she was, her palm in his.

"Mrh, perhaps she is some good after all, then". Ra'jor smirks as he's rewarded with the rough, yet contrasting feminine chuckle from his conservationist. "Other than searching, what is it that you have been doing all these years?"

"Ah, that would take all night to go into, you rrealise?"

Ra'jor shrugs his large, muscular shoulders as he answers her. His gaze softening as his voice turns uncharacteristically gentle, his words blanketing over Zharaji like a velvet cloak. "A good job we do have all night then, hm?" turning her hand over in his, brushing the back of her palm with a thumb. He watches carefully as the female in question stares, a look which he could not decipher, even with his keen mind, as the gap between them speaking grows and creates an odd sort of awkwardness.

Behind them, the muttering of the Mandalorian they spoke of, just moments ago, sounds. Incoherent murmurs and strange child-like growls come from her lips, which eases the Cathars once more into a comfortable discussion, quiet snickers escaping at their friend's sleeping antics.

"She's certainly interesting company, I'll give you that."

"You have no idea. Rreally. Makes up forrr here poorrr flying skills at least".

"Skills? Lack thereof. She shouldn't be allowed to be near a speeder, let alone fly a shuttle" they share a grin together, shaking their heads in mild amusement. At least there were things they still agreed on, despite how much the other had changed.

Time seemed endless as minutes turned into hours, and before either of them knew it, the dark of the night was soon turning into the glow of dawn, the heat of the newly born sun barely tingling their faces as they remain close to one another. It became apparent to Zharaji, that through out the conversation, and as the hours ticked on, their hands remained clasped together, almost naturally. She was confused.

This wasn't her. She wasn't soft, and she certainly wasn't as affectionate as this, on a normal basis, but then she hadn't been around a male Cathar nor her best friend for many cycles. The opportunity had never arisen and she'd never had a reason to think on it. A hum of thought jerks her from her reverie, and her attention is brought to her left, where the object of her thoughts sits.

"You're troubled?"

"Mrh? No, I'm sorrrry. I was thinking".

"You shouldn't" Ra'jor starts, chortling as he's met with her bemused gaze, and questioning glance, continuing, "Its dangerous when you think". It ashamed him to admit it, but he enjoyed tormenting her, infuriating her. It brought him a sense of pleasure to know he could make such comments and be rewarded with a harsh, yet joking, elbow to the ribs. Her glare less than intimidating when he could see the quirk of her lips as she fought a smirk of her own.

"Watch it; You'll find yourrself hanging overrr the edge with those comments, and I won't be the one to save you".

"Go ahead, I'll pull you over with me".

"...Krrriff off".

"Language, Zharaji. Language" He grins at her, revelling in the way her chest rises and drops heavily as she releases a frustrated huff of hair, mist blowing out from her mouth and nose as her breath condensates before them, before fading into the atmosphere. "On a serious note..."

"Mrh, what? You'rre going to tell me to speak prroperrly, now? Give me a lecturrre?" She perks a furry brow, watching him expectantly as she tries to nimbly tug her hand away from his. Instead of letting go, he holds on, stopping her actions. She freezes.

"No. Tempting, but… No. I want a word, a private word, whilst we can".

"...Alrright. I'm listening".

Ra'jor takes a moment to gather his thoughts, prepare his words, and gain composure. This was it. He was going to put the idea forwards, and leave her be. He doesn't remember his father, his B'ae saying it was this hard, to just put it out there, but once again, he reminds himself that times have changed. He has no rival, to his knowledge, there's no one to fight, to win her affections. It was simply...words. Instantly, he found himself preferring to fight, than speak. The topic of 'feelings' wasn't something he was familiar with, and why would it be? He was Cathar, a warrior race, one which was more prideful, and eager for combat than serene and touchy-feely. And yet, he again reminds himself, here he was, holding hands. A single thought came to his mind, when he questioned his behaviour. Shameful.

Regardless, he continues with his plan, taking a final, daring breath of air before exhaling into the empty space in front of him. "I wish to bind with you".

There. Not a romantic, he assumed bluntness. Straight to the point, and saying it how it was. He couldn't fight with words, so he throws them out there, letting them fight with the stillness which soon greeted them as Zharaji stares in what he can only assume as shock, and bewilderedness.

"I'm sorrry, what? Come again?"

"I, Ra'jor, wish to bind with you, Zharaji". He shrugs a shoulder, alert for any signs of dismissal and disgust. She hadn't tried to remove her hand from his grasp for a second time, at least, which he thought to be a good thing, and she wasn't telling him to go jump in front of a speeder, either. She was just… staring at him. _"Perhaps this wasn't a good idea, after all"_ , he thinks to himself, all the while keeping his eyes trained on her, his ears only momentarily twitching each passing second, straining for any signs of movement from their Human companion.

Her words came out as hisses and whispers, tinged with the emotion of her shock and befuddlement at his outburst. Surely, she didn't hear right, did she? Looking at him, she could see that she did, and she was gob-smacked. What, in the name of all Hutt-space, had brought such a thing into his mind?

"Arre you insane?"

"No".

"Arre you serrious..?! This is barrbarric, what the krriff brrought such thoughts into that skull of yourrs?"  
"Yes, I am serious. And does it matter?"

"Of courrse it matterrs. You know what it means, you know what it entails. Do not take this lightly, Rra'jorrr". She shakes her head, trying to reason with him. This was insane! Didn't he see that? Yes, she was attracted to him, and he had to be attracted to her, in some level, to even suggest such an idea. But to just go ahead, without a thought, when they'd only been reunited after months? Hasty.

"Don't be stupid, Zharaji. You know, as well as I, that I do not make decisions, let alone these kinds of decisions, lightly. One reason should be obvious, the second, there is no other, and third, you are my regija nya'mayu. It seems only right, and… I would want no other, regardless".

He had her, there. He couldn't make rash decisions, not with the job which he's involved in. Everything had to be done with careful planning and thoughts about the outcome, both positive and negative. No, this, he would have thought about for a while. In a way it worried her, in another, it excited her. After all, how often was it, in this age, that her people had an official binding? She waged that it would fewer than four out of ten. What was stranger, was how business like he was about it. It wasn't like the Humans, where such a proposal was done over a fancy meal and ended in joyful tears. No, this was how she preferred it, she wasn't soft, she didn't do tears, and she certainly didn't do lavish meals in a restaurant somewhere. Besides, it wasn't as if they could do that, even if she did want to. She forces herself to focus on the task, or rather, conversation at hand. Did she like him, in a more than platonic manner? Yes. Did she love him? No, not in a romantic way, but she did love him as a trusted friend. Perhaps that could turn into more, in time. She'd go to the end of the galaxy to keep him nearby, that much was true, and she'd be devastated if anything happened to him.

"Alrright. Yes, Rra'jorr. I will bind with you". She is unable to stop an embarrassed, but amused smirk, as the male Cathar sitting besides her almost beams at her reply, his fangs fully on show as they pass over his lower lip, like that of a saber's fangs. However, such a smirk quickly shifts into a look of astonishment, as he wastes no time in crashing his lips against hers, pulling her into a passionate lip-lock.

At first, she remains still, frozen. Her entire body rigid as her eyes remain open, her dazzling green gaze fixed on him, as the feeling of what she could only describe as a mini heart-attack, overcomes her and her senses. The seconds pass on as she awkwardly sits with his mouth working at hers, before slowly she gives into her instincts, responding in kind as she gradually kisses him back, raising a hand for it to rest hesitantly upon his knee.

She wasn't entirely sure what to make of it. Nice? Yes. Unusual to believe she was kissing her best friend? Most definitely. More importantly, could she get used to it..? Again, in time, perhaps she could. Just as more thoughts were about to invade her mind, she throws herself in horror, and away from Ra'jor as she hears the clearing of a throat from behind. Kaylee.


End file.
